The Forgotten Chronicles of Narnia
by Spouse of Orestes
Summary: They were rulers for 15 years, but they didn’t realize that they lived there for 50. This tells about the missing 35 years of the lives of the Pevensies in Narnia. A “what if” multichaptered, canonbased story of epic proportions.
1. Prologue

_**A/N: **I dedicate this to two great authors I admire: Francienyc and rooty-boots. I absolute love their stories and their canon analysis about the timeline of Narnia which partly inspired me to conceptualize the plot of this story. Do check out their individual profiles and their common profile under the name "Transatlantic Inklings." They're very insightful._

_If any of you have seen the timeline of Narnia, you will notice that in the year 180 Prince Col, the younger son of King Frank V came to Archenland with some of his followers and became the first king. But if you read The Magician's Nephew closely, it was clearly said that the second son of the first King Frank became the king of Archenland. This is probably an error by C.S. Lewis who gave additional facts about Narnia in his notes that are not found in the books. In this story, I will have to follow what was written in The Magician's Nephew, but as a tribute to erroneous timeline, I named the first son of King Frank, Col._

_This is quite an ambitious project I'm working on, so expect it to be long—I mean really long. It's not quite like my two chaptered golden age fanfics. But it does correspond with that universe so if you're familiar with them you'll be encountering some of the characters I created here.  
_

**The Forgotten Chronicles of Narnia**

**Prologue**

_The Eastern Ocean, year 4_

King Frank bounced his oldest son on his knee while leaning over the deck of their magnificent ship, the Luciana.

"Look Col, look at the water," the eager father urged. However, the three-year-old didn't appear to understand, for he found something else more interesting. It was a small glass vial that encased a tiny seed that dangled from a chain around his royal father's neck.

"Now be careful with that. That is a seed from a fallen apple from the Shield Tree that one of the dryads had saved. I keep it with me always for good luck. Who knows, it may have some magic in it too."

The boy continued to grasp the vial and stare at the treasure it held. The king smiled. "Someday, you'll understand," he said.

The ship suddenly lurched forward and King Frank lost his balance from his seat. He clutched at his son protectively, but the boy held on to the vial in a fierce grip until it shattered. The precious seed came loose and got caught in the wind and fell into the ocean.

"No!" gasped the King. At the same time, the young prince wailed as his hand was now bruised and bleeding. The father realized his child's distress and began to mutter words of comfort.

"Hush!" he said. "It's alright, it's just a wound. Come, let's have one of the fauns look into that." He led the still-teary-eyed boy into the cabin, but he took one last glance out into the ocean.

"Well perhaps it might have other purposes than just as a good luck charm," he muttered.

Down into the depths of the sea the tiny seed plummeted. It was nearing the ocean floor where lay a large oyster out hunting for food. As it opened its mouth it swallowed the foreign object. It began to itch and began covering the tiny seed with its shiny coat, forming layers.

_Cair Paravel, year 6_

King Frank sat uncomfortably at his seat polishing a newly carved wooden horn. He had been doing that for about two hours now, so much that the freshly varnished wood had shone like gold. Yet he found, he couldn't do anything but that. He was too nervous.

He stared at the mouthpiece of the horn, which had the face of a lion.

"Oh Aslan, dear Aslan," he murmured at the image. "Please keep her safe. Keep them both safe."

The cry of an infant disturbed the silence and the king stood from his seat and run out the room, quickly making his way to his royal chamber. He ignored the nymphs standing by the door way and burst through the doors. His sight was greeted by a wailing baby in the arms of a dryad.

"Your highness, it's a boy, congratulations. You have another son."

He stared at the child as tears poured through his eyes, but his heart did not rest from its fast pace. He turned to the dryad. "My wife?" he muttered.

"Frank…" her weak voice murmured. He was by her side in a moment.

"She will be alright, your majesty. She only needs rest."

King Frank finally let his worries pass as he kissed her forehead.

"Here," he said as he showed her the wooden horn he had carved so carefully. "It's a gift for you, my love."

Queen Helen smiled up at him. "From the Shield Tree?" she asked.

He nodded. "It is very valuable," he said.

"Yes," she replied. "But I treasure it more because you have made it. Put it near my mouth, darling."

The king obeyed and placed the mouthpiece of the horn to his wife's lips. She gave a soft blow on it. It produced a single note but it was so infinitely sweet. Their newly born son stopped crying and everyone in the room felt a certain peace overwhelm them.

_The Western Woods, year 20_

Flowers rained upon the couple as they kissed amidst the joyful shouts of their loyal subjects. All of Narnia was rejoicing at this union between their crown prince and a daughter of nature. But none were happier than King Frank and Queen Helen who were pleased to see their eldest married to the faithful dryad that had been with them since the first day of the creation of Narnia.

"We thank you all," said the prince when the cheering had stopped. "My wife and I wish to do something to remember the occasion." He drew from his robes something wrapped carefully in a silken cloth. He unveiled it to reveal an apple core.

"My darling found this—a fallen apple from the Shield Tree—and saved it on the day she agreed to marry me. We will be planting the core and the tree that will grow from it will be symbol of our love for eternity."

The Narnians cheered and King Frank's eyes misted as he caught his son's gaze. The king wondered if perhaps his son was remembering that tiny seed that he had caused to fall into the ocean so long ago. Perhaps this was his way of showing to everyone that he had learned to value the fruits of the Shield Tree, just as his father had.

_The bank of the Great River, year 45_

King Frank sat beneath the Shield Tree and the let the silence envelope him. He felt sorely tired and could feel his skin and aged bones so vulnerable to the elements. It was nearing winter and it was quite cold out. His physician had advised him to stay in the Cair, but he insisted on going here. He had to see the tree again, at least one last time. He wanted to be here where his life as king began.

He didn't know why, but somehow he felt he knew he would no longer see the spring. He felt no fear of death. His task here was done. His older son would take his throne. His second son would rule in the new city he founded in the southern lands. All will be well and in death he knew he would soon join his beloved Helen again who passed away last year.

A sudden strong gust of wind blew by and it fiercely shook the tree. It creaked violently before one of its upper branches snapped and fell a few feet where he sat. The king picked up the fallen branch and caressed it.

It was quite long—almost like a sword. An idea struck him and he reached for his carving knife in his pocket.

_One last gift, perhaps as toy for my grandson, _he thought. And just like the horn he had painstakingly carved for his wife years ago, he began carving the branch into a wooden sword.


	2. Return of the Refugees

_**A/N:** I just got Paul Ford's Pocket Companion to Narnia and it's really helping me formulate details for this story. I'm also finding some contradictions with canon and Lewis' letters. One is Lucy's and Edmund's ages. In LWW, it was mentioned that they were only a year apart, but in the timeline based on Lewis' later writings he indicated that they were two years apart. I'm sticking to LWW, so I'm putting Lucy at age 9 when she entered the wardrobe while Edmund is 10._

_Another thing I found out was that Lewis meant for children to make up stories based on the tales of Narnia he left unfinished. So there you have it—Lewis' word that he approves of fan fiction writing! Isn't that just wonderful to all of us writers? I'm taking up that challenge by writing this novel that fills in some of the gaps he left (or at least what I think are gaps he left). Thanks to my five early reviewers. I like to look forward to your future feedback. Enjoy this next chapter. The next one is coming out soon, I'm just editing it._

**Chapter One**

**Return of the Refugees**

_Narnia, year 1002_

Peridan entered the halls of Cair Paravel with his family in tow. He held his five-year-old son's hand on one side while his other arm was claimed by his wife who had their three-month old daughter tucked under her other arm. His two younger brothers were behind them with their young wives.

"You think the monarchs will grant our request?" Peridan's wife asked worriedly.

"The High King Peter has always been kind to me," replied Peridan. "And we have proven our loyalty to him in the past when we volunteered to guide his troops away from the White Witch's forces near the borders of Archenland. Surely, they will not begrudge us this, especially if I tell them our history. This is meant to be our home."

"Still, do you think they would accept other humans as their subjects?" asked his wife. "They seem to get along so well with non-humans. We did have a good life in Archenland, even if we're just common peasants."

"I know, dear," replied Peridan. "But I have this feeling. When I stepped into Narnia the first time, I felt that this is where our whole family truly belong. And we're not asking for much, just to live here in peace."

"Alright, then," she said. "But I think we shouldn't all come in to see them. Just you. I don't like to make them feel we are imposing on them by coming here like a horde uninvited."

Peridan nodded. They had reached the large doors leading to the throne room and Peridan was just instructing his entire family to go to the side and be as quiet and inauspicious as possible when the dwarves guarding the doors ceremoniously opened them fully to reveal the four thrones where the four monarchs sat. Too late, his entire family was in clear view of the kings and queens. The tallest one with a golden crown on his head immediately got up from his throne at the sight of him.

"Peridan!" he cried in a genuinely pleased voice. "What a pleasant surprise! Do come in and who have you brought with you?"

Peridan blushed to the roots of his dark hair. Slowly he faced the High King, his hand still clutching his son's.

"I beg your pardon, your majesty…" he began. But he was interrupted by the youngest queen (he was rather surprised that she was just a child, probably no older than twelve), who had also come down from her throne and rushed to meet them.

"Hello! I'm Queen Lucy, I'm very glad to finally meet you, Mr. Peridan. My brother's told me all about you and how you helped his troops find their way out pass those mountains near Archenland. We're so grateful, so many of our citizens owe their lives to you and your brothers."

She spoke a mile a minute but somehow Peridan thought it was rather endearing than annoying for she was genuine in what she expressed.

"And who do we have here," she said eyeing the toddler. The boy looked frightened and immediately hid behind his father's leg, clutching it tightly.

"He's er… my son," stuttered Peridan.

"And this must be your lovely wife and daughter," said another female voice. Peridan was startled to find that Queen Susan had also come down from her throne and was now beside his family.

Queen Lucy's gaze came upon the last two couples who trailed behind near the door.

"Oh, do come in, do come in," she said eagerly. "We always love visitors. You must be Misters Percival and Pendragon and these are your wives." Queen Lucy immediately began shaking everybody's hands, much to Peridan's and his family's puzzlement. Queen Susan repeated the gesture and Peridan figured it must be some strange Narnian custom of welcome.

The High King Peter approached him and clapped him on the back. "Good to see you and I'm glad you brought your fine family. I suppose I won't have to introduce my sisters they seemed to do that for themselves. Oh, but here's Ed. Edmund, do come down and shake hands with Peridan."

But Edmund remained seated on his throne and was staring silently at Peridan's toddler who was still clutching his father's leg. Peridan met the boy-king's eyes and something stirred in him that he couldn't understand. It was a feeling of familiarity that was almost affectionate.

"Ed," hissed Queen Susan. She jerked her head at him as if to remind him of his manners. The younger king seemed to awaken from the spell he was in and was immediately up from his throne.

"Welcome to Narnia," he said simply to Peridan and offered a hand to his guest. Peridan didn't exactly know what to do with it but put his hand on the King's who shook it the same way that his sisters did. Again that strange feeling of familiarity came upon him.

"What brings you and your family so far Peridan?" asked the High King.

"Where are you manners, Peter?" Queen Lucy admonished. "It's almost dinnertime. I'm sure whatever it is that Mr. Peridan wishes to discuss, can be done after we eat. I'll inform the dryads to put extra places. Do join us for supper," she offered to their guests.

Peridan and his family looked embarrassed. They didn't really want to oblige the monarchs when they were about to ask for more, but Queen Lucy would not take no for an answer. For the next hour they dined and talked of trivial matters. But finally, the subject could no longer be put off.

"Your majesties, we thank you so much for your hospitality and as much as I hate to impose on your good graces, my family and I have an even larger favour to ask."

"Ask away, Peridan," said King Peter. "If it is in my power to grant it, I shall, for Narnia owes you a great debt."

Peridan heaved a sigh. "My family and I wish to remain here in Narnia, to be your loyal subjects. We will make every effort to learn your customs here and abide by all your laws.

We do not need much. Just a small plot of land anywhere you can spare where we can build a house each for our families and perhaps cultivate something that we can live on… if it's not so much to ask…" he trailed off and looked up hopefully at the High King who seemed to be considering it.

"Done!"

Peridan and everyone else on the table were startled. It was King Edmund who spoke.

His older brother gave him a questioning look, but the dark-haired monarch ignored his gaze and looked at Peridan.

"Your family is welcome here Peridan and I'd be more than happy to take you on a tour of the available arable lands of Narnia so you may choose where you may wish to settle."

"T-thank you sir," said Peridan, who was uncomfortable accepting seeing that the High King and his two siblings were undecided on the matter. "But perhaps the High King and the Queens would like to have a say…"

The High King's face brightened at his show of humility. "Well, I would just like to know why you feel you should move permanently to Narnia. Do you not have a good life in Archenland?"

"Oh, we do sir," said Peridan. "King Lune is a wonderful and just ruler and we have never been in want there. But you see Sir, it's this feeling of belongingness I have when I stepped on the borders of your country. It's not so difficult to fall in love with this land when the people have always been so kind and the landscape so beautiful. And there's another reason..." he hesitated.

"Do continue Mr. Peridan," encouraged Queen Susan.

"Well you see, we are Narnian, at least my ancestors are. Although I have no proof of this but what I have heard from my father and grandfather. They say that my great great grandfather whose name I share escaped from Narnia when he was no older than my son. They he say his mother was nymph. No one knows about his father, but I figured he must be human for that was the reason he had to flee. I am sure your highnesses knew that when the White Witch came to Narnia she killed every creature with a drop of human blood in them to ensure the prophecy of her downfall did not come to pass. My ancestor fled to escape her persecution and has lived in exile in Archenland ever since. But through stories he passed on to his children and his children's children, he never made us forget. We are Narnian and when the time comes when the evil is over, we must seek to return to our true land."

The High King who had been unwavering in his gaze finally lifted from him and looked to his siblings. They seemed to communicate silently with each other with nods and looks only they understood. Finally the King Peter spoke:

"Peridan, I've known you and your brothers to be honest men and even if you have no ties to Narnia, I would welcome you to this land. But now that I've heard your story, it proves even more that you deserve your chance here. Stay with your families, I am sure my siblings and I would welcome other humans for company. And I hope you will find happiness here."

"Thank you, sire," said Peridan gratefully. "You don't know how much this means to us. We will not fail you. We swear our allegiance wholeheartedly." His wife, brothers and sisters-in-law muttered their own thanks but it was drowned out with much handshaking—and among the women—hugging and kissing as if they were old friends.

After that Queen Susan insisted they stay for the night at Cair Paravel as guests.

When they were led by the nymphs to their guest chambers to rest, Peridan focused his gaze on the coat of arms with the symbol of a Lion that decorated every other pillar in Cair Paravel. He had heard tales of Aslan before as most Archenlanders also revere this mysterious king, but it was the first time he had actually seen an image of him in carving. He muttered a prayer of thanks to the great lion for the blessing he bestowed.

"Rest well with your family, Peridan." Peridan turned to find King Edmund. "Tomorrow we will proclaim your citizenships to the rest of Narnia and we will journey out together to find you a place for your new home."

"Thank you, sire." He muttered as the rush of warmth came through him again. King Edmund muttered goodnight and Peridan couldn't help but feel that he was the child rather than the thirteen-year-old king.

* * *

Peter stopped Edmund on his way to his own bedchambers, a question brewing in his mind, itching to be asked.

"What was that all about with Peridan?" he asked Edmund.

"What's with Peridan?" Edmund returned.

"You seem to find favour in him almost immediately."

"And you don't?" asked Edmund.

"I do. But at least I have known him longer than you do when he and his brothers led me and the troops out of those mountains and saved us from those werewolves and hags at the risk of their own lives. You just met him and you're already willing to let him live here without even asking about his intentions. It's not like you, Ed. I always thought you'd be the one to grill him first, investigate his background. You always do that to all the refugees we accept here."

Edmund shook his head. "I don't know. Call it intuition, but I know by just looking at him he's a good man. And it's not only him. It's his entire family, particularly his boy. It's funny but when I saw the boy, I felt like I wanted to cry. I wanted… I don't know… to keep them here somehow, keep them close to me. I was afraid they would go back to Archenland and I would lose them like when I thought I would lose you and Su and Lu to the White Witch."

He shook his head again. "It's probably nothing. It's just silly imagining. Anyway, I think we did right. We could all use some human company and I'm sure Susan and Lucy could benefit from having female friends to take walks with that don't disintegrate into air or leaves or water when they want to travel."

Peter laughed at Edmund's description of the nymphs and bid his brother goodnight.


	3. Lucy's Longing

**Chapter Two**

**Lucy's Longing**

Lucy glanced pensively out into the window of the throne room with a view of the sea. The sun shone over the waters making it look like a vast plain of golden scales that ended with the endless blue of the sky dappled with fluffy clouds. She glimpsed a movement every now and then of playful mermaids jumping out of the water to splash and make acrobatic exhibitions in the air.

Lucy would give anything to be out there in the ocean. _How lovely it must be to be a mermaid,_ she thought. _It will be just like a holiday everyday, playing in the water, singing by the rocks and exploring their world underneath the surface. It will be so much better than being stuck here on dry land._

"Lucy… Lucy! Are you listening!"

Lucy startled and looked away from the window only to meet her sister's disapproving stare. "Yes, I am," she lied.

Susan arched an eyebrow at her. "Well, I asked what you think about the Lone Islands situation," said Susan sternly. "What is it, then?"

"I totally agree," smiled Lucy innocently.

Two more eyebrows shot up—one from each of her two brothers. Lucy realized it was the wrong answer.

"I… totally agree with your opinion on the matter…" she offered lamely.

Susan huffed, a clear indication she didn't buy Lucy's save. "Oh pay attention, Lucy. This is important. You're a queen now, this is no time to be caught up in childish fantasies."

Susan's words stung and Lucy could feel tears threatening to fall off her eyelids. Peter however, was quick to come to her defense.

"Lighten up, Su. Lucy's only eleven after all. She's still a child."

"Child or not, she has duties, Peter. It's a never ending job. Even if we've defeated most of the forces of the White Witch, we have a lot of things to deal with. These diplomatic relations are important to us. Remember what we studied from the learned fauns and dwarves that—"

"Diplomacy is the key to lasting peace," recited Edmund wearily. "We all know that, it's been grilled on all of us worse than those grammar lessons at school back home."

Susan glared fiercely at him. "Well unlike those grammar lessons back at home, if we don't mind them we don't just get poor marks and a scolding from father. Here we may end up starting a war that could cost us our lives and the lives of our subjects. Do you not see the implications?"

Lucy was immediately ashamed. Susan was right and it was only proper for her to remind them that they should always be responsible. Their crowns came with a vow—that was to serve and protect the people of Narnia. She suddenly recalled that day just before the coronation ceremony. Aslan had spoken to them away from the cheering Narnias and he bid them to rule with humility. He also entrusted to them the five duties that all Kings and Queens of Narnia should always remember: to work with their hands and raise their own food, to rule subjects as free beings, to educate their would-be children to rule in the same way, to play no favorites among their would-be children and tolerate no abuse among the creatures they ruled, and to be the first in battle and the last to retreat in the event of war.

They made a vow to do all that he told them, though Edmund had voiced the concern that plagued all of them but were afraid to speak of:

"_How can we four mere children of with no experience, rule this land properly?" Edmund had asked then.  
_

"_You will all be educated. Everything you will need to know will be learned in the proper place and the proper time."_

"_But…" Susan had argued. "It all seems so soon, Aslan. I wish we had more time."_

_Aslan merely shook his head at her. "Do you have so little faith in me? Time is of no consequence."_

That was their assurance and none of them questioned further. Lucy suddenly thought of those words by Aslan and figured this must be part of their education. These everyday things that they must do are all part of the learning process towards being good rulers.

_I must learn patience, _she thought._ And responsibility. Oh Aslan, forgive me for neglecting._

She turned to her siblings with a contrite expression. "Su's right, Peter. We're dealing with other people's lives. We should be responsible. I'm sorry, Susan. Let's not fight anymore. I'll pay attention now."

"Good," said Susan, though her tone indicated she was still cross. "Well going back to the Lone Islands, Edmund do recap for Lucy's benefit."

Edmund offered Lucy a comforting smile. "Now we all know the Lone Islands are a part of Narnia though geographically they are nearer to Calormen." He walked to the huge map of Narnia and the surrounding countries painted on the wall. He pointed to the three islands that clustered in the middle of the Eastern Ocean. "When the White Witch came to power, she also sent some of her followers there. There hasn't been word of anything about it since, but we can assume that it's probably still under the control of the White Witch's followers."

"If it is," continued Peter. "It's essential we wipe them out thoroughly and liberate what citizens we have that may be living there. But the question is, do we go there now and find out? If we do, we might be walking into another battle. Meanwhile, there are pressing issues we also have to deal with at home."

"Such as?" asked Lucy.

"Well there's the standing invitation to visit Archenland," said Susan. "Now we had King Lune and Queen Corinna here before and they're wonderful people. They're also essential allies." She stood next to Edmund and traced the outlines of Archenland's borders on the map with her finger. "Their country is our shield against Calormen. So far, Calormen hasn't responded to our invitations for an alliance. We've all heard the rumours that they're not exactly as friendly as the Archenlanders and they distrust all northerners. We've already established a connection with King Lune. I don't want to severe that by putting off a visit any longer."

"And then there are news of a small band of hags still residing in the Western Woods," added Peter. "We may have taken down most of them, but we need to be on our guard."

Lucy pondered for a moment. "What if we divide it between us?" she suggested.

"You mean we go separate ways? Do everything all at the same time?" asked Susan fearfully. "Wouldn't that be dangerous?"

"It can't be any more dangerous that the four of us being together," said Edmund. "We do have people to back us up each. Peter and I can go to the Lone Islands. Susan can go to Archenland and Lucy can remain here.

"Still…" Peter hesitated as his gaze shifted between Lucy and Susan. "I don't think… I mean the Lone Islands seem so far away. I'm not very comfortable with the idea of all of us being away from each other."

"And Lucy being left at home," continued Susan as she met Peter's eye. "When there might be someone waiting to attack from the Western Woods. I don't like it."

Lucy could understand Peter's and Susan's apprehensions. Since the Battle of Beruna, all four of them had remained in close proximity to each other. This was the first time anyone suggested they be apart.

"It's the only way," argued Edmund. "And you said yourself Su, children or not, Lucy and I have duties too. We can take care of ourselves."

"Well… I…" Susan began and looked to Peter for help.

Peter bit his lip and heaved a defeated sigh. "Alright, but I'm taking Lucy with me. Ed, you're staying here to make sure nothing's amiss. And Susan can go to Archenland."

Susan looked about to protest, but Peter gave her a firm look. "With her horn," he added.

Susan nodded in consent. "But if there's any trouble anywhere…"

"I'll send Lucy home," said Peter.

Lucy scowled. "I thought you'd send for Edmund and Susan to join us and help us fight."

"Don't be ridiculous, Lucy," said Susan. "Leave the battles to Peter."

Lucy rolled her eyes in exasperation and met Edmund's face who echoed her own sentiments: _They still treat us like helpless children. _ But they both knew there was no point in arguing for a more active role. It would only aggravate Peter and Susan further and in the end they'd still have their way. And knowing their older siblings, their way would be to have both Edmund and Lucy locked up in Cair Paravel and defended night and day with body guards.

Susan turned to Peter. "Promise me, at the first sign of hostility, send Lucy back on the first ship and come home yourself if you think you'll be overwhelmed. Otherwise, send for reinforcements."

"You know I will," replied Peter. "You should take Peridan with you, Su. I know there's nothing to fear with this visit to Archenland, but I prefer a former Archenlander I trust by your side. He's a fine chap and I'm glad we granted him and his family citizenship last month." He turned back to the rest of his siblings.

"We'll take a break now but I want you back here after dinner. I'll call for a council of all our advisers to discuss our Lone Islands expedition and the home defense. Edmund, call for Oreius and all our commanders. Susan?"

"I'll send a message to King Lune when it's convenient for me to visit," she said.

Peter nodded. "Lucy?"

"I'll speak to Mr. Tumnus and inform him. Can he come on the trip too?"

Peter smiled at her. "Yes, Mr. Tumnus can come too. Now off you go, but be back before dark."

Lucy nodded and gaily skipped out of the hall in search of her friend. He was probably in the library reading as he usually did whenever he stayed overnight at the Cair. But as she passed by a balcony, her attention was caught by the ocean again. It looked so lovely in the late afternoon sun that she couldn't help but admire it.

_Just a minute, _she told herself. _I have more than hour anyway. I'll just get feet wet and then I'll head back to find Mr. Tumnus._

She changed direction and headed towards the front steps and out the doors and half-ran towards the beach. When she got there, she removed her shoes and dipped her feet at the edge of the water. She stared at the open sea and wondered what lay beyond those waters. She had never traveled beyond Narnia's land borders and was glad that Peter would take her to the Lone Islands. It would be her first ocean trip and she couldn't help but feel excited.

She always wondered what lay beyond the Lone Islands. No one in Narnia could tell her anything, except that there lay Aslan's country. She felt a warmth in her heart at the thought of Aslan and she longed to visit him in his own country. Perhaps one day she could when everything in Narnia was in order and there were no more threats against their peace.

There was a faint sound of pleasant voices carried by the wind and Lucy looked up to see a few mermaids playing in the distant rocks. They all seemed to be as old as Lucy, but in mermaid terms, that was about 30 years old. She recognized them as among those who sang during her own coronation. She waved to them and they waved back. A sudden idea came to her.

"Hello!" she shouted to them. "Can you come over?"

The mermaids all nodded in assent and dived into the waters and swam towards the beach. They emerged several meters from Lucy and the queen understood that that was as close as they could possibly come to her on land for they couldn't risk getting too dry. She took off most of her outer clothes and waded into the water until it was thigh deep.

"Good afternoon your highness," the mermaids greeted. "How can we be of service?"

"I just wanted to talk," said Lucy. "What's it like out there, in the ocean?"

"Oh a great many things," said one mermaid with flowing red hair. "What do you wish to know, your majesty?"

"Nothing in particular. Just about you and your world, I suppose. What's it like living in the water?"

And the mermaids began telling her of swimming and playing with the fish, of singing in the rocks at moonlight. They told her how they would visit Galma, Terebinthia and the Seven Isles and frighten the sailors who thought they were monsters.

"But what about the Lone Islands?" Lucy asked. She told them she was leaving for the Lone Islands with her brother soon "Have any of you been there?" she added.

They shook their heads. "All of us are very young mermaids, your majesty," replied a dark-haired mermaid with dimples. "The elders do not allow us to go so far."

Lucy understood. A huge part of the mermaid population had died due to the persecution of the White Witch. An entire generation had been wiped out and the few ones that lived by hiding near the beaches of Archenland during the century of winter were less than a hundred years old. It was only natural of the elder mermaids to be protective of their young ones. It struck Lucy as funny that even among mermaids, the elder family members acted the same way towards the younger.

"Is there anyone you know who knows about the Lone Islands and beyond that?"

The mermaids looked at each other and spoke in their own language, then turned back to Lucy.

"No one knows what is beyond the Lone Islands, your highness. Not even the elders can tell us."

Lucy felt disappointed and it showed on her face.

"But perhaps, if your highness will be traveling to the Lone Islands you might find someone who can tell you there."

"Who?" Lucy brightened.

It was the oldest looking mermaid who answered. "The elders say there is an old mermaid who lives near the Lone Islands. They say she is more than three hundred years old—older than any other living mermaid we've heard of, and she has traveled beyond those lands. Perhaps she can tell you what you wish to know… if she is still alive."

Lucy was dismayed. She knew mermaids' average life spans were only three hundred years. "But if she's that old, how can I meet her? Surely at her age, she stays in the ocean floor as she can no longer stand the dry air."

"Oh but they say she does come up to the surface," replied the young mermaid. "Once a month with the coming of the new moon she goes up just before sunset. Nobody knows why. It is not the usual behavior. Old mermaids can barely withstand the surface. But the elders say she never fails to go up. It is like she is looking for something."

"Or someone," giggled the youngest mermaid. And the other mermaids began to speculate why the elderly mermaid continued to surface. One remarked that perhaps she was looking for a lost lover or some other romantic reason. Lucy listened for a while to their talk and for several minutes was lost in the conversation.

Suddenly she noticed the sun was already beginning to set. She remembered the errand that she was supposed to do. She bade the mermaids goodbye. They all promised to see her off when she and Peter departed for the Lone Islands.

Lucy hurriedly got dressed and set off back to the castle. She went straight to the library now with a second errand in mind. She needed to find a calendar. She wanted to know the dates when the new moon occurs.


	4. The Mermaid of the Lone Islands

**Chapter Three**

**The Mermaid of the Lone Islands**

"Lucy, come away from there and play chess with me," said Peter. He was sitting on the portside deck of their flagship, the Splendour Hyaline with a chessboard that lay open on top of a barrel that he was using as a makeshift table. He had already played several rounds with most of the crew of the Hyaline since this early morning and he had beaten them all severely. This was not surprising since no one was really adept at chess among the Narnians because the Pevensies had only introduced the game a few months ago. Only General Oreius had managed to put up a long enough fight, but in the end Peter still managed to checkmate him after three quarters of an hour. Peter was longing for a bit more of a challenge in competitors. He missed Edmund, who was the undisputed master in the game, though Lucy would come as a close second.

Lucy however, had not paid any attention to him. She kept standing by the railing of the ship watching the sea intently as if she was aiming to find something there.

"Lucy, what are you looking for?" he asked when she didn't answer.

"A mermaid," she replied without looking back at him.

"A mermaid?" he asked. "Lucy, we left the mermaids at the coast of Narnia."

"This one's different, she lives near the Lone Islands and as the Captain said, we're nearly there." Lucy stared at the sky. "It's a few hours before sunset. She might come up soon."

Peter abandoned his chess set and stood next to Lucy. "What's so special about this mermaid?"

"The mermaids in Narnia says she might know what's beyond the Lone Islands. Maybe she can tell us where Aslan lives."

Peter smiled at her. Lucy had told her before how much she longed to sail to the east and find Aslan's country. Peter couldn't promise that they could do so, but told her that if there was an opportunity for them, if the Lone Islands and the rest of Narnia was secure and they had time, they would go sailing with Edmund and Susan and perhaps find Aslan's country.

Right now, however, Peter was just content to sail to the Lone Islands. It was their first voyage out in the open ocean and they both found it to their liking. There was nothing like feeling the fresh sea breeze in your face and the occasional spray of salty water that showered them every few minutes.

It was a grand adventure, made even more exciting by the fleet of ships that followed their grand swan-like galleon. Peter had learned much in the weeks he spent on the Hyaline. He enjoyed doing everything from learning how to navigate with a compass and steering to the manual and heavy tasks of rowing below deck and pulling up sails with the rest of the crew. He almost wished that the voyage would go on longer for he felt there were so many things he could learn on the ship. In addition, he rather enjoyed commanding troops at sea. It was a lot more complex due to the different communication strategies he had to employ from ship to ship but it proved excitingly challenging for him. He was sure Edmund would have enjoyed it if he were here.

"Land Ho!" came the cry from the look-out post. Peter and Lucy immediately went up to the fore along with most of the crew.

"What do you see?" cried Peter to the look-out dwarf who carried with him a spyglass.

"Felimath, the western-most island is in view, Sire," replied the dwarf. In a few minutes we'll be seeing Doorn. The third island, Avra is hidden by the mountains of the two islands. It's not likely to be visible from our location." He peered at his spyglass again. "It's too early to say anything but I see the hills lush with vegetation. No snow—a good sign."

"Do you think the White Witch's forces are no longer there?" asked Lucy.

"I'm hoping for it," replied Peter. "But I want to be sure. I don't want to land there blind. Sallowpad! Gryphon!"

The two winged beasts alighted, ready to take orders.

"Fly forward and tell us what you see," commanded Peter.

The beasts immediately obeyed and set off. They waited almost an hour and in that span, their ship managed to come closer to the Islands enough that Peter could peer into his own spyglass from the poop deck and have a clear view of the beach of Felimath. It was deserted but as the look-out described, further inland was thriving with vegetation. He could see it was composed mostly of grasslands. Peter offered the spyglass to Lucy for a look but she was busy staring at the sea again in search of her mermaid. Peter let her be.

"Gryphon returns!" shouted the look-out.

Peter turned to his spyglass and saw the griffin return without Sallowpad by his side. But even more alarming was that he seemed to be having difficulty flying.

"Give him room!" ordered Oreius and the crew cleared an area in the top deck for the griffin to land. When he finally did he collapsed on the wooden floor of the deck and Peter could see why. A spear pierced his left wing and he was bleeding badly. His feathers on his back were blood-soaked but Peter saw it wasn't because he was injured there. On his back lay Sallowpad who was barely breathing.

Lucy pushed her way to them, and quickly brought her cordial to the lips of the injured raven and griffin. Gryphon recovered immediately and stood up. Sallowpad however was taken to a small cushion to rest.

"Hags, cyclopses, wolves and probably werewolves in their human form attacked us in Doorn, reported the griffin.

"How many?" asked Oreius.

"Not that many. They can't be more than two hundred. They are concentrated on the area that used to be the town of Narrowhaven. Felimath appears to be just deserted grasslands and there are a few settlements in Avra. We saw a few humans and red dwarves in chains being made to work by some of the wolves. They appear to be slaves."

"Then we must liberate them," said Peter. He had more than a thousand strong troops. He was confident that they could take the Islands.

"I believe you are right, your majesty," agreed Oreius. "With our troops we could capture them. Time is at our advantage. Tonight is the beginning of the new moon. The werewolves will remain human and the other creatures of the night will not have as much power as they have during a full moon."

Peter nodded. "We head for Doorn and overwhelm them. Signal to the rest of the fleet to prepare for battle." He stopped as he looked at Lucy who was wiping off the blood from Gryphon's back with a washcloth. A sudden feeling of uneasiness came over him that was totally unrelated to the battle. He didn't know why but somehow he felt like it would be a long time since he will be seeing Lucy again. He made a sudden resolve.

"Send a different message to the Siren Stealth," he added, indicating one of the lesser ships in the fleet. "Queen Lucy and Mr. Tumnus are transferring to her."

Lucy looked up at him in puzzlement.

"Before she falls back," continued Peter.

"What?" gasped Lucy. "Peter, you're not sending me home. Gryphon said they're not that many. We could take them."

"I'm not sending you home," said Peter. "Not yet, but I'm not letting you land either."

"Peter, I can fight." She unsheathed her dagger.

"Absolutely not!" said Peter sternly. "Mr. Tumnus?"

"Sire?"

"Make sure she keeps away from the Lone Islands until I send for you when it's safe. I leave you in charge."

"Peter, I'm Queen!" protested Lucy hotly. "If anyone should be in charge—"

Peter ignored her and continued to address the faun. "Keep an eye out for the battle through spyglass but keep your distance. Wait until sunrise. If I don't send a message by then, sail directly home to Narnia."

"Peter, I ought to think—"

"If anything happens to me, I leave the command to Edmund. He'll know what to do." He thought of his brother and sister left at home and a certain sadness came on him similar to the one he was feeling about Lucy. He suddenly wished he had held them longer before he left Cair Paravel.

"Peter, I want to fight!" shouted Lucy.

"NO!" Peter roared. It silenced not only Lucy but also the rest of the crew. But she recovered immediately and faced him with anger flashing in her eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because I can't bear to lose you like I almost lost Ed! I promised Su I'd keep you safe! I promised Mum that! I PROMISED MYSELF THAT!"

Lucy didn't say anything but looked away. Her accusing silence was killing him.

"Don't argue with me, Lucy. I don't need this now! Just go, that's an order!"

"Alright," she said softly, evenly.

The Siren Stealth was already next to the Hyaline and they had a plank across for Lucy and Mr. Tumnus to walk over to transfer ships. Lucy followed Mr. Tumnus on the plank but she stopped halfway and ran back. Peter thought she was coming back to argue some more. However, she surprised him by rushing to him and hugging him tightly.

"Come back safe," she whispered in his ear and he heard her bite back a sob. He hugged her back and felt tears stinging his eyes. He couldn't understand why he was being so emotional about this. He had every confidence in his army. He knew he would succeed in this battle, yet why did he feel like he was saying goodbye to his youngest sister?

His kissed her forehead deeply then reluctantly let her go. He watched her board the Stealth and they stared at each other until their ships drifted apart.

"Sire?" Oreius asked.

"It's time."

Peter went to the top deck of the Hyaline where he knew his entire fleet could see him. He raised his sword Rhindon high in the air and uttered a battle cry: "For Narnia! For Aslan! And the freedom of the Lone Islands!"

* * *

Lucy watched in apprehension as the entire Narnian fleet sailed on at top speed towards Doorn. Her initial anger at Peter's decision to keep her away from battle had completely melted away when he hugged her. She knew he would win but a nagging feeling hammered in her heart that something was going to happen that would keep them apart.

A sudden loud splash broke into her thoughts and she looked down to the water below. There at a little distance from the starboard side of the Stealth, staring up at her was the face of a woman with long dark locks that framed her shimmering face. She appeared to be quite aged and the gills on the side of her face were no longer as bright green as those of the younger mermaids Lucy knew. But she wore a pleasant smile and her eyes were lighting up brightly with something like recognition and relief.

"Luciana!" the mermaid cried. Her voice was gravelly and appeared to be very weak.

But at that moment Peter's battle cry was echoed by the entire fleet. It sounded like thunder and the mermaid appeared to be frightened and dived into the waters.

"Wait!" Lucy cried. "Don't go!" She peered out into the sea and caught sight of a tail just below the surface but couldn't see farther as the ship's railing prevented her from moving further. Lucy climbed over the railing. "Oh please, don't go!"

"Lucy!" shouted the alarmed Mr. Tumnus. "Come back inside the railing!"

Lucy paid no heed to him. She was desperate to see the mermaid again. She leaned farther, her feet dangling over the edge of he railing and only her hands held on for support. There was a splash and the mermaid appeared again.

"Come," she whispered weakly. "I don't have much time!" She held out a wrinkled hand.

Lucy didn't know why but she somehow felt she could trust the mermaid. She let go of the railing and let herself fall.

"LUCY!" she heard Mr. Tumnus desperately shout but his words were drowned out by a second battle cry from the fleet. A moment later, even that roaring noise faded away as the water closed in on her.


	5. The Grieving Nymph

**Chapter Four**

**The Grieving Nymph**

Edmund trotted slowly on Philip. The fresh air and sunshine in these woods had always given him a light-hearted feeling. It was his one consolation from being left behind instead of having an adventure in the Lone Islands.

Even though he found Cair Paravel beautiful and comforting, there was always something about Lantern Waste that appealed to him. He had always been an outdoors person and he didn't mind sleeping outside in this natural environment. If it weren't for his duties as King that kept him in the castle all day, he would have preferred to live in Lantern Waste. An idea struck him that perhaps he could.

"Say Philip, what do you say to me having a cottage here?"

"Here in the woods?" asked the horse.

"Yes. I could use a retreat. It's nice to stay with Mr. Tumnus' house every once in awhile but I don't want to impose too much on him every time I want to stay here overnight. I think I'd like a place of my own."

"I doubt if Queen Susan would approve."

Edmund snorted. His older sister was a constant worrier, particularly with him and Lucy. She always wanted to know where all of them were all the time. One time that Edmund didn't come home because he stayed overnight with some new nymph and faun friends in Dancing Lawn, she actually sent out search parties. He maybe only 12 years old, but he was also a king. It was rather embarrassing to be suddenly accosted by General Oreius and half a battalion and be brought back to Cair Paravel to be scolded by his older sister. It was the first ugly argument they had since the White Witch incident. Peter did admonish Susan for blowing things out of proportion, but he sided with her half-way and made Edmund promise to always tell Susan where he was going and at least have an escort whenever he left the castle.

"Well she doesn't have to know," said Edmund.

Philip shook his head and neighed as if he didn't believe him.

"What? You're not going to tell her, are you?"

"Edmund, I need not tell her. Your sister has eyes and ears like a hawk when it comes to your welfare or that of Queen Lucy's. If you have a house here, she will know. May I suggest you bid your time and wait until you are older? Perhaps then she will grant her blessings to have your own private home."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "I'm almost 13! How long do I have to wait?"

"Thirteen years is not so old. I do not blame your sister for wanting you near. I have a foal of my own and I would not want him to be setting up home so far away so soon."

Edmund huffed.

"Be thankful that your sister allowed you to be left at home this time."

"It's not like she let me alone. She ordered me to be escorted all the time." He jerked his head irritably at the three centaurs, two tigers and a fox that trailed behind them. "I'm supposed to be patrolling the border—like a KING should! Instead, I have them tailing me like a shadow."

"It is for your own safety, Edmund. You know there are still rumours of hags—"

"I know, I know…" Edmund gave a defeated sigh. He knew of course that his sister was right. It was still unsafe here in the Western Woods and he would have done the same to Lucy if she was the one left here alone. Still, his own adventurous longing to have more freedom was fighting with his sense of caution.

They passed several groups of fauns and nymphs who greeted them pleasantly. Edmund exchanged greetings and inquired about their well-being as he usually did whenever he patrolled these woods with Peter. So far, none had encountered any strange occurrences recently. Nothing was amiss.

It was mid-afternoon when they reached the lamp post. This was their usual last stop during regular border patrol. Philip made a move to turn back.

"Wait!" said Edmund, who suddenly had an idea. Ever since he had seen the maps of Narnia, he had always longed to see the wonder near the mountains that bordered Narnia called Caldron Pool. It was located away from his regular border patrol route and it was currently inhabited by faithful Narnian creatures so there was never any need to go there personally. He thought perhaps this would be an ideal time to see it for himself. "It's still early. Let's go south a bit." He signaled to their escort to follow them forward.

One of the centaurs rode up next to them.

"Sire?" he asked curiously. "Should we not be turning back?"

Edmund shook his head. "Just a bit further," he replied. "I've never been to Caldron Pool."

"Sire, there are assigned regular scouts who patrol that area and the creatures who live there give us regular reports that it is secure," said the centaur. "There is no need for you to tire yourself."

"Oh I'm not aiming to patrol. I just want to see it." He looked at Philip who looked like he was going to pitch in an argument. "And if there are regular scouts there, it's perfectly safe," he quickly added.

His horse whinnied in defeat. "Well, I suppose it is alright," said Philip. "The unknown danger lies west, not south. Besides, I have not seen the Great Falls either."

The argument settled, Edmund led Philip and his escorts southward from the lamp post until they reached the river. Edmund ordered for a rest and all of them settled down for a long drink. The sounds of tinkling laughter interrupted them and they all looked up in alarm.

"Show yourselves!" ordered Edmund's primary centaur escort.

Slowly, clusters of leaves appeared from behind the trees and formed into eight womanly figures. Edmund and his escorts relaxed. They were just nymphs.

"Forgive us your majesty," said the oldest one. "We were not aware that are aiming to visit us in our home." Edmund recognized her as among the nymphs who regularly came by at Cair Paravel. He was also familiar with two others but the younger ones who kept on giggling were fresh faces. The old nymph shushed at the young nymphs. They stopped laughing but didn't appear ashamed. Instead, they bowed low but confidently to Edmund.

"It is I who should beg pardon," said Edmund. "For coming unannounced."

"Oh, it is no trouble, your majesty," said one of the playful nymphs. "It is a pleasure to have you. What brings you to our home?"

"Just sight seeing," Edmund replied. "I wanted to see Caldron Pool. Pray, tell us, how much further is it?"

"You will be out of the woods in about three quarters of an hour," replied the oldest nymph. "From there, if you follow the river southwest for another hour you will reach Caldron Pool."

"Which allows us time enough to get there long before dark and enjoy the scenery," said Edmund. "If you do not mind, we'd like to rest for about half an hour."

"It would be an honour to have you here as guests, your majesty," replied another young nymph. "Would you like some refreshments? We could get for you the freshest berries. And some oats as well," she added with a smile towards Philip and the centaurs. "But you must pardon us for we have no meat." She nodded towards the tigers and the fox.

Edmund thanked them for their hospitality and told them not to worry. They had brought along packs of meat pies for their carnivorous companions. They brought them out and soon they were all eating contentedly while the nymphs serenaded them with songs.

When Edmund had his fill he told his companions he would take a bit of a walk. The oldest nymph offered to accompany him on a ten-minute stroll a short distance away from the path.

For several minutes they enjoyed breathing in the fresh wood air and listening to the noisy rushing of the river. His companion was quite talkative and made him laugh with anecdotes of the nymphs. Abruptly, she stopped by a tall tree. Unlike those around, this one look withered and close to dying. It was bare of leaves yet it remained standing like a defiant post. Beyond it, the trees appeared to be denser as if whatever nourishment the bare tree lacked the rest had taken in abundance.

"We must go back now, your majesty," she declared.

Edmund stared directly at the cluster of thick trees. "What's beyond those trees? It seems a bit wilder here."

"It's a private place for nymphs, Sire," she replied seriously. "No one male is allowed to go beyond this old bare tree."

"Why?"

"There is a nymph who stays there. She is currently in mourning and she has forbidden male company for a five and a hundred years since the coming of the long winter."

"But why?" asked Edmund. His curiosity was now quite peaked. He had never known that nymphs could mourn. He always found them jolly-spirited creatures. "Has some tragedy befallen this poor nymph?"

"That she did, your majesty. She is a widow who has lost her beloved husband the same time as her son. We have tried for years to console her but she is beyond consolation. Even after the hundred years winter ended, she refused to end her vow of bereavement. 'A hundred years I will pine for the husband I lost,' she said. 'And five more for all the seasons that I held my son in my bosom.'"

"How sad," said Edmund as he stared at the withered tree and imagined it to be the grieving nymph. Edmund had never completely lost anyone he loved though he knew how painful that could be based on his experience of almost losing his siblings. He shut his eyes and felt warm tears filling his lids. The air felt heavy and it was almost like he could feel pain in his own heart for this sad, sad creature.

"Sire," the nymph interrupted him. "We must turn back. Your companions await."

Edmund shook his head gently. "Give me a few minutes more. Will you go back and tell them to wait for me? I promise I won't go beyond the tree. I just want to say a prayer for her that grieves."

"Of course," she bowed low before disintegrating into leaves that flew back to the direction of their camp.

When Edmund was alone, he was struck by the utter silence of his surroundings. He never noticed it before, but here even the sounds of the river seemed to have faded completely though he knew the river was only nearby. No birds sang here, no sound of crickets and other tiny creatures. Yet the silence felt even more deafening. It was the sound that was left when there were no more tears to be shed, when there were no more cries to be uttered. It was the sound of anguish so great, that there was no sound left at all.

Edmund held his hand over the withered tree and felt warm tears stream down his cheeks. Suddenly, he felt like he was drowning in misery himself. He wanted so much to comfort and be comforted, but there was no one there but the old dead tree. He pressed his cheeks against the rough bark and held the trunk in a firm embrace. It smelled like apples and somehow that eased his pain. He inhaled the scent deeply, wanting it desperately to fill him.

Suddenly he felt a wave of nausea overcome him and he let go of his hold. He collapsed into the ground and felt himself land on a bed of moss. For a long time he lay there, confused and dizzy, eyes shut. When his world stopped spinning, he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a something round and brown way above him. For a long time he focused his gaze on the thing, puzzling what it was. He felt a strong gust of wind blew and the thing swung violently. Then it fell—right into his face!

"Owww!"

He brushed away the offending thing and realized it had broken on his face, leaving a sticky, smelly substance. It smelled of fruit—rotten, mushy fruit that just happened to be crushed when it impacted on his forehead!

He sat up and realized it was an apple. He looked up and realized he was sitting under a large apple tree in full bloom with dozens of apples. There was nothing unusual about that, he thought. Yet, he was suddenly afraid. For two questions entered his mind and he suddenly realized he was unable to answer them. The first question was 'what was he doing here?' The second and more important question was: 'Who was he?'

**A/N: I know, you're all gonna kill me with that awful cliffie and confusing end. Don't worry, you'll get it in the succeeding chapters. Fledge, you're partly right. I did shift—but not to Peter but to Edmund. I thought I could hold off the suspense a bit longer. I've got evil ideas steaming in my head and they just keep getting written and ending up as cliffhanger chapters. I think I should warn you, you're going to get frustrated with more cliffhangers, but I hope it doesn't discourage you from reading further. **


	6. What Happened in the Lone Islands

**Chapter Five**

**What Happened in the Lone Islands**

Dark blood horrendously covered Rhindon, masking its silver sheen. Peter struck its tip to the ground before going down on one knee and leaning his forehead on its golden hilt. For a moment, he let himself rest and allowed the blood to drip away into the ground. He whispered a silent prayer to Aslan for his good grace in this successful battle. He then wiped his sword clean with a handkerchief he always carried for the occasion and sheathed it back into its place.

He surveyed his surroundings. All around him, in what used to be the town square of Narrowhaven, lay the carcasses of the evil creatures that had haunted and persecuted the people of these islands for almost a hundred years. He felt no regret at their deaths, yet he still recoiled at the carnage. Even if he knew these creatures were the foulest to walk this earth, he never found pleasure at ending any of their lives.

He met Oreius' eyes who saluted him. He saluted back with a sad smile. He turned to his other subjects and gave them the same gesture. That was how he met his troops after a victorious battle. No one laughed or screamed with pleasure, only diminutive smiles and a nod to acknowledge that they had done well. For Peter and the rest of the Narnian army knew that there was no such thing as a total triumph in any battle. There are always casualties.

The casualties today only numbered 20 who died and 48 more who were injured. This was a small figure but Peter never made a distinction if one died or 10,000. The occasion for mourning would be the same.

And that was the first task he ordered. After seeing to the care of the wounded, a short ceremony honouring those who had fallen was immediately done before their bodies were burned and their souls commended to Aslan.

Halfway through the funeral rites however, Peter and his troops were startled to hear voices shouting in triumph:

"They are dead! They are all dead!"

All the Narnians stood in alarm, weapons drawn and teeth clenched. But soon the source of the shouting appeared. Men, women and children had come from all directions. They had all run and hid during the fighting but now they had mustered the courage to come out into the square and watch these strangers that had killed their oppressors. They appeared dirty with sunken faces and sallow skin. Their eyes had a haunted look in them and Peter realized how much these people have suffered under the Witch's followers. Even now, they came forward cautiously, as if unsure if the Narnians might do them harm.

Finally one old man with a toothy grin came forward and stared at the image of the Lion on Peter's chest and those emblazoned on their flags.

"Narnia? Aslan?" he asked fearfully.

Peter nodded and put his sword down to indicate they came in peace. The rest of his troops followed suit.

The man's face immediately lit with joy. He turned to the rest of the crowd.

"They are 'ere! The proper Narnians came just like the elders told us 'bout! Praise to Aslan!"

One by one the faces of the crowd lit up the same way as the old man and there was a lot of laughing and crying with relief. Then one young lad uttered a victorious cry and that was soon echoed by the growing crowd.

"'Ail, the liberators! They 'ave killed all the evil! 'Ail! 'Ail!"

Soon there was dancing and singing of triumph. Five young men came forward dragging the dead body of a wolf. They had sharp sticks with them and they began stabbing the body several times, spurting blood everywhere. Peter stared in horror as the crowd egged them on, jeering at the corpse with an almost frenzied state.

"STOP IT!" Peter shouted over all the noise and everything was suddenly silent. The High King pushed through the crowd to get to the center where the dead body lay. He felt their puzzled gazes on him but he stared down at all of them with a look of disapproval. He ordered two of his troops to take the body away gently.

"Bring it with the rest of the other bodies. They are to be burned with dignity after we perform a ceremony for their eternal rest and a petition for their souls to be forgiven."

"But… but Sire…" said the old man who first recognized the Narnian banner.

"He is the High King of Narnia," informed Oreius. "And the rightful Emperor of the Lone Islands. You shall address him as such"

The old man bowed low. "Begging yar pardon, 'ighness," he said. "But these creatures… are wicked. They treat us bad for almost an 'undred years… they are the enemy. 'Onour them… unthinkable… they don't deserve…"

"I am aware of what they have done," replied Peter. "It is not to honour them that we bury them with respect. Instead it is an assertion of our own decency. What separates us from them is that we respect all creatures. If we besmirch their bodies, then we are just as foul as the most evil-hearted of them all." He turned to the rest of the crowd of Lone Islanders. "You will all do well to learn this if you wish to stay in these Islands that I reclaim as part of the Narnian crown. We come here not just to liberate those who are oppressed but to educate all in the tenets of justice and peace."

The crowd all bowed their heads and said nothing.

"I offer all of you a choice. You may remain here and abide by the laws set by Narnia. If you do, I assure you protection and a life free from slavery. If not, you may leave for some other land. Who among you disagrees?"

The crowd was completely silent and Peter was satisfied. He commanded solemnity for the next hour as they finished the ceremony for the dead from both sides. But when it was over, the Lone Islanders and even his own Narnian troops gave in to celebration again. Trumpets blared and everyone began shouting: Praises for Narnia! Praise the High King! Savior of the Lone Islands!"

"Take yar place at the Tower, yar majesty," said the old man who questioned Peter earlier. "It is the rightful capital."

A procession began as the eager Lone Islanders led Peter northwards from Narrowhaven where the Tower that used to be the seat of power was located. Amidst the confusion, Peter managed to send a winged messenger to the Siren Stealth to inform Lucy that it was now safe to land.

Peter would have wanted to wait for Lucy before he proceeded to the capital, but the Lone Islanders were too excited to wait any longer. They urged him on and Peter conceded.

The old man who Peter knew by now was named Dubio, kept next to Peter and appeared excited at finally entering the Tower he had heard so many stories about as a child. Along the way, he told Peter tales of rooms filled with treasures from faraway lands.

"They say there is a big room full of writin' and pit'tures. They 'ave stories of ancient kings of Narnia and all old Emperors of the Lone Islands. And then there are the pit'tures of lands beyond the Lone Islands—"

"You know what's beyond the Lone Islands?" asked Peter excitedly.

"No, Sire. I 'aven't 'eard stories of them. But me grandfather told me there are pit'tures there in the Tower, drawn by the Sea Child 'erself."

"The who?"

"The Sea Child, Sire. They say she's a sea creature. She comes to land at the last quarter moon. She's friends with the last Emperor of the Lone Islands before you Sire. That was before bad creatures came. They traveled to the east of the Lone Islands together and made pit'tures of what they saw."

Peter kept this in mind. Lucy would absolutely love to see those maps.

The procession took only a little more than an hour before they sighted the Tower. But one look at it and Peter was immediately dismayed. He expected something as grand as Cair Paravel. What he found was a massive stone building that was already half-crumbling due to years of misuse and filth. Peter realized that hags and werewolves and the other dark creatures that occupied it didn't put much priority regarding hygiene and general sanitation of their surroundings.

They entered the building cautiously—a smart move as they encountered two remaining hags hiding behind one of the rooms. Oreius managed to dispatch them without much ado. Afterwards, there was nothing more to bother them.

Contrary to Dubio's tale, there were no fine furnishings here or precious objects. All the furniture was mostly rotted away and the few pieces of jade pottery or jeweled mirrors they discovered every now and then were in pieces. The walls were covered with moss and lined with graffiti, but there was evidence that they were once painted with bright colours, and probably showcased wonderful murals.

Peter discovered a massive room that he figured was the library. But this was almost empty of books. Scorch marks in the middle of the floor indicated that most of the books here were burned. The few ones that managed to escape the flames were torn and scattered on the floor.

Peter picked up one and half of it crumbled in his hands. The few remaining pages that remained intact were damaged beyond reading. Something fell between the pages. It was a piece of paper that didn't seem to come from the same book, as the words were written in a different script—like a letter. It was barely readable but he managed to discern a part of it at the end just before it flaked away:

_... growing darkness comes. I feel that our time here is ending and perhaps we will finally return to the world we have lost. But I know there, we will find each other again._

_Emeth_

Peter felt stinging sadness come upon him for no apparent reason. But then he caught sight of something on the floor. It was something made of wood and he picked it up, brushing off the dust.

It was a small wooden sword—just the size of a dagger. A toy, he figured. But it was made of hard strong wood that was beautifully carved with symbols on the hilt of a lion. Surprisingly it was completely intact without a trace of rot. _Strange, it seems to be the only thing that survived undamaged in over a hundred years. _

He held it up to the moonlight and he found an engraving written in a crude script as if it were made by a child. It was only one word, a name: Gale.

"Sire?" Oreius said as he came through the door. "I think it's best to set up camp for the night somewhere else. It's no use staying in the Tower."

Peter nodded. "Alright, let's go back to the village." He looked around but there didn't seem to be anything else of value. He slipped the wooden sword between his belt and his trousers and followed Oreius and the rest of his troops back into town.

When he got outside the Tower however, the wooden sword slipped off and landed on the ground. Peter crouched down to pick it up.

"Go on ahead," he said to Oreius who stopped just as he did. "I'll follow." The centaur general nodded and did as told.

It was already dark with only a little moonshine for light. Peter groped around the ground for the sword. He found it with his fingers and tucked it securely at his boot where his dagger (that he lost during the battle) used to rest. He made to stand up but a sudden dizziness passed through him and he saw the trees in the distance appear to grow hazy as if they were slowly fading away. At the same time, the rest of his view appeared to be changing. He closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it, thinking it was just momentary queasiness due to fatigue…

There was a feel of cold steel on his neck. His hand instinctively grasped the hilt of his broadsword.

"Drop it lad, if you value your life," hissed a menacing voice.

With a speed that surprised even himself, he drew his sword completely and blindly slashed away the blade on his throat with one swift move. He felt blood splatter on his face and heard a cry of agony.

He opened his eyes and saw a strange bearded man clutching his hand—or rather his bleeding wrist because his hand was currently missing. He suddenly realized he had just cut off the man's hand!

"Take him!" the man shouted.

He realized that there were half a dozen men around him, all armed with curved swords. They attacked at the same time. He didn't think but just met all of them with his broadsword. Steel clashed against steel and he thought of nothing but keeping those scimitars from grazing any part of him.

It seemed like a long time that he fought them off until a sharp pain pierced his left leg and he fell to the ground. Another cut came at his right arm, at the same time his sword was wrenched from his grasp. In the next instant, four sword tips were pointed at his throat.

The face of the man whose hand he had cut appeared before him.

"I should kill you now," the man said fiercely. "But then that would mean I lost my hand for nothing. I'll just have to make sure I get a huge profit out of you." The man picked up something from the ground. "And I get to keep your sword and fancy armour."

The man ordered his men to strip him off his armour. They found a wooden sword on his boot and tossed it aside. They were far too interested with the other items he had on. The man caressed the breastplate. "Fine steel," said the man with a greedy look in his eyes. "Where did you get it?"

"I—" he stopped, suddenly confused for he couldn't form a reply because he honestly didn't know.

The man eyed him carefully. "Who are you?"

He shook his head.

The man pointed the tip of his scimitar at him so close it grazed his flesh on his neck. He felt blood trickle down towards his chest. "What's your name?"

His eyes moved desperately in all directions searching for an answer. His gaze finally fixed on the discarded wooden sword on the ground. It shone in the dim light and he could clearly see the letters crudely etched in it.

"Gale," he read out loud.

The man snorted as if he didn't believe him while the rest of his men sniggered. "Emperor, my ass," mocked the man. The men with him laughed harder. "Well perhaps, we shall make our acquaintance with his majesty in more convenient quarters," continued the man. He nodded to one of his companions. "Do show our guest the royal treatment."

One of the men urged him to stand. He did so reluctantly, but as he did, he felt a hard blow to the back of his head before unconsciousness mercifully took him.

**_A/N: I'm glad you all (well at least those that reviewed) like cliffhangers, so here's another one. I'm going to make it really difficult for the Pevensies. It's going to be rough sailing for them for maybe a dozen chapters more (I'm not sure, I haven't written them yet, though I've got some good plots running in my head). _**

_**I'm not giving away anything yet, but I'm leaving clues every now and then so you'll get them eventually. Thanks to all those who are reading and reviewing. I get inspired to write faster when you do. **_


	7. The Horn of Swanwhite

**Chapter Six**

**The Horn of Swanwhite**

Susan stared out the window as Anvard came into view. It was made of reddish brown stone and had a lot of towers. It was surrounded by green lawns and behind it were woods. It wasn't as grand as Cair Paravel but it had looked just as warm and inviting.

Susan was glad for Peridan's company. The long journey to Anvard seem to fly by since she had someone interesting to talk to. He told her he and his family were now happily settled in their new home near Cair Paravel, though he sometimes missed Archenland and talked lengthily to her about it. By the time they made it to the gates of Archenland's castle and her name was announced, Susan knew more about the native flowers that grew here, the animals and the weather. She gracefully stepped out into the sunshine on Peridan's arm and was greeted by a familiar female shout.

"Queen Susan!"

King Lune and Queen Corinna stood by the gates of their home ready to greet her with pleasant smiles on their faces.

Susan forgot to bow and happily waved back to them. Corinna gaily skipped towards her and enveloped her in a hug.

"Oh how I missed you!" cried the older queen. Susan hugged her back and kissed her cheek. Corinna was twenty-one years old but she always seemed to possess that openly cheerful manner that Susan had grown to like. When they first met in Cair Paravel two years ago shortly after Susan and her siblings were crowned, she immediately got along with both of them so well they made her promise to visit them. It was only now that she had managed to fulfill that promise though she corresponded regularly with them in the last two years.

She introduced Peridan and her Narnian escorts to the monarch couple and they exchanged pleasantries before Corinna claimed Susan's arm.

"How are you?" Susan asked with a tinge of worry. She knew that Corinna and her husband had recently encountered grief when they lost their older son who was kidnapped by one of their own lords.

"Surviving," she said sadly. "But I have faith in Aslan. He will protect our boy, wherever he is."

Susan gripped her hand in a gesture of solidarity before turning to meet Lune's warm kiss on her cheek. "She hasn't accepted that he is gone," the King whispered to Susan. "It's best that we leave it at that."

Susan nodded.

There was the sound of a wailing infant and Corinna claimed Susan's arm. "You must meet Corin," she said proudly as she led Susan inside where the one-year-old boy was crying in his elderly nurse's arms. He was a pale child with blonde locks and blue eyes and he was stubbornly resisting his nurse's pats to calm him. Susan smiled. A memory of Edmund as an infant crossed her mind.

"Hello Corin," she murmured as she stroked his tiny head.

The baby met her gaze and he abruptly stopped crying. Then he held his arms out to Susan as if begging to be taken by her.

"You want to come with me?" offered Susan as she held out her own arms.

The nurse shook his head. "Begging your pardon, but I don't recommend it your majesty," said the nurse. "He's quite an unruly child, he may be too much for you."

But the baby gurgled noisily as if begging to disagree. He continued to reach out to Susan.

"I'll take a chance," said Susan. She took him from the nurse and he calmly held on to her, clasping his tiny arms around her neck.

"How strange," said King Lune. "He never warms up to new people so easily before."

Susan bounced the child playfully in her arm. "Well I think we shall be friends, won't we Corin?"

The baby giggled.

It was lunchtime and King Lune invited Susan and her Narnian companions to dine. However, when Susan attempted to give Corin back to his nurse he cried so violently, she had to reclaim him again. He refused even his own parents' arms. In the end, Susan decided to eat lunch with Corin on her lap. She didn't mind so much as she was fond of babies and rather liked Corin. Halfway through the meal though, the child curled up on Susan's chest and fell asleep while sucking his thumb contentedly. He was quickly whisked away by his nurse to his crib, allowing Susan some rest.

"Forgive my son," said King Lune. "It's the first time he ever did that to anyone."

"Oh it's no trouble," replied Susan. "I adore him."

"Well when you've had enough of the meal I'd like to take you on a tour of Anvard."

Susan nodded. Her Narnian escorts left her to rest themselves and Susan was left with her two friends. They set off beginning with the gardens. Susan found she could find no better guide than her two friends. They pointed to her the flowers and plants that Peridan had told her about and had more to share about the history of Anvard itself. They moved on into the castle where Susan noticed some parts were still under construction.

"The façade and the main building," said King Lune. "Is quite new. Most of the castle burned down decades ago. For a time, most of us Archenlanders lived in exile in Mt. Pire when the White Witch's followers occupied Anvard and burned most of it. When I returned two years ago, I started rebuilding it. Most of the towers are still original though. He led them to see the base of some of the towers, but there was one tower he insisted Susan come up and see.

It was the tallest tower of all and it led to a bare room with a single large window. Almost as soon as she stepped into the room, she felt herself shudder and she wasn't sure it was because of the cold.

"Now this one," said King Lune excitedly. "Is quite historical. A famous queen was imprisoned here once… Are you alright, my dear?" he asked abruptly when he noticed Susan.

Susan nodded but only because she wanted to be polite. In truth, she wanted nothing more than to leave this bare room. Something about it frightened her.

"Lune, I think we should go down now," Corinna said calmly as she worriedly eyed Susan. The King looked apologetic to Susan and quickly shuffled them down the long staircase. It was only when they returned to the main building that Susan managed to breathe easily. Corinna had her sit down on a chair.

"You shouldn't have made her come up there Lune," admonished his wife.

"I apologize," said King Lune. "Perhaps it was too much for you. I just thought you might be interested as it was historical."

"I think it was ghastly," said Corinna. "I know it's romantic and all, but it was a prison. Oh don't bother her with those dark events."

"Why? Who was imprisoned there?" asked Susan who by now had calmed down enough to be interested again.

"Queen Swanwhite—the first."

"_The _Swanwhite!" gasped Susan. "Queen Swanwhite of Narnia! But I've heard of her! From Mr. Tumnus and from some of the nymphs. Isn't she the Narnian Queen who was so beautiful any pool she looked into would reflect her face for a year and a day?—But wait, didn't you say she was imprisoned here? I've never heard of that."

"That's not surprising," said King Lune. "Most Narnians wouldn't know. They only remember her reign in Narnia as the first queen to rule without a man by her side. Very few remember that before she became queen, she was a duchess of Archenland named Suzannah. And she was one time a prisoner here, in that very tower by her own cousin, the crown prince."

Susan's face wrinkled in confusion. "A duchess of Archenland? But how could that be? I've read the list of Narnian rulers before us. She succeeded King Gale, the ninth Narnian king and first emperor of the Lone Islands. I assume he's her father and if so, she was Narnian from birth."

But Corinna shook her head. "Oh, no, no. Not according to the stories we've heard. She was born an Archenlandian. King Gale isn't her father, he's her husband. He died, tragically quite early and left Swanwhite with a very young son. She took over his reign until her son was old enough to rule. Legend has it that she was accused as a witch because of her famed beauty. She was locked up in the tower for three years so no one could see her face. But then King Gale came and rescued her with a dragon. He married her and she assumed a new name as his queen."

"How interesting," said Susan who was delighted more and more at the knowledge they shared with her. "I will certainly have this recorded when I get home. You don't know how much this means to us in Narnia. We have so little history left when records were destroyed during the White Witch's reign."

King Lune and his wife were delighted. "Ahhh…" muttered the king. "If you like history, there's one more story you should know about. Are you well enough to walk again? It's just to the council room. And no prisons, I promise," he added with a nod of assurance to his wife.

Susan heartily agreed.

The council room was located in the center of the main building. The smell of fresh paint and newly-fashioned stone told Susan this part of the building was just recently furnished. It held several pieces of new furniture and a few paintings of the royal family beginning with King Lune's father. The walls were mostly bare as if they were waiting to be filled.

"It's too bad we barely have anything left of my family before my father," said King Lune. "But here, I have something important to show you."

Susan followed the king to a wall at one end of the room where a single object hung in a place of importance.

"This is Archenland's most prized treasure."

Susan stared at a wooden horn. It was smaller than the horn given to her by Father Christmas but it was beautifully carved with the image of a lion as its mouth. Susan felt somehow drawn to it and longed to touch it. She wondered how it would feel to put that mouthpiece to her lips and blow. She could almost imagine what a beautiful note it would create. Yet, she held back, not wanting to offend King Lune by touching something considered as a valuable artifact.

"The horn of Lady Swanwhite," gushed Corinna. "It has such a romantic story. Lune, do tell dear Queen Susan about it."

"Oh please do," said Susan. "I didn't know there was more to Queen Swanwhite's story."

Corinna shook her head. "Oh, but this is a different Swanwhite altogether. She came long after your Swanwhite of Narnia. This one was the queen of Archenland."

"The most famous queen of Archenland," said Lune proudly. "You see, it was said that this horn came from a fallen branch from the magical apple tree that grew in Narnia on the day it was created. You have heard the tale?"

"Yes, of course. My subjects have told me stories how Aslan had left the tree that grew for almost a thousand years and kept the White Witch away."

King Lune nodded and continued. "Well the origin of the horn is mostly myth as well. They say that during the reign of the first rulers of Narnia and Archenland—that was King Frank and Queen Helen—a branch from the tree had fallen due to a strong wind. King Frank valued the tree so much he ordered the branch brought to him. He had a talent of carving things and so he made the branch into a horn and gave it to his wife as a gift after their second child was born. His second son of course became the ancestors of the Archenlanders. They carried the horn here and regarded it as a treasure—a symbol of love between the first king and queen of the land." He paused to eye Corinna who looked just as excited as Susan as if she too was hearing the tale for the first time. "But perhaps my wife would like to continue?"

"You're a darling," said Corinna as she lovingly brushed the tips of his moustache with her finger. She then turned to Susan. "Well, anyway, the second Swanwhite came much later and was linked with the horn. She's an important figure in Archenland history. In fact her time, which was directly before the arrival of the White Witch, was known as the 'Golden Age of Archenland.' She figures even more prominently than her husband, King Colin who was king of Archenland and my dear husband's ancestor."

"Indeed, she did" agreed King Lune. "Nobody knows when my great great great grandmother arrived or where she came from. Some say she was a common peasant who rose to the ranks, others say she was from the strange islands in the Eastern Ocean. Still others claim she was from a different world altogether just like you and your siblings."

"But when she did appear," Corinna interrupted. "She came at a time when Archenland was in grave threat from Calormen. She was the one who rallied the troops to fight the invaders from the south. She accompanied King Colin before every battle. He was a good commander and a fierce fighter. But it was the beautiful Lady Swanwhite's speeches that instilled fire in the hearts of men and gave them courage. Then she would blow that horn and such a sound would accompany the men's battle cries and urged them forward. She was never in the thick of battle herself, but she was a fine archer and can shoot down enemies by the dozen from a long-range vantage point."

"She sounds like a magnificent woman," Susan said.

"Oh, she is," said Corinna. "When I was a child and I heard tales about her, I wanted to be just like her. Every little girl in Archenland grew up with her as the ideal heroine."

"And perhaps the young ones in Narnia would also dream the same once I tell them about her story," said Susan, who enjoyed the tale very much. "I'm sure Lucy would enjoy hearing about the heroic deeds of the Queen of Archenland."

"But it's not over yet!" said Corinna, who was bouncing up excitedly. "You see, she almost didn't become the Queen of Archenland and that's where the romantic part comes." Corinna suddenly stopped and realized she had been acting a little too eager. She blushed and looked to her husband to ask to continue the tale. But the Archenland king merely appeared amused and bid his wife to continue.

"You see there were two other men in the story. When Archenland was finally at peace, King Arthur—who was still a bachelor then—gave a tournament and invited some of the nearby nobles. It was during this tournament that Lady Swanwhite met two men. She was known to have shown great affection for them. One was the Duke of Lantern Waste—"

"Lantern Waste?" cried Susan in surprise. "You mean he was a Narnian lord?"

"Why yes, both of them are," said Corinna. "The other was the Emperor of the Lone Islands."

The wrinkle reappeared in Susan's face at this new information that was clashing with her own stock knowledge on the matter. "But, I've read the history of Narnia from Mr. Tumnus' collection of books and I've heard some of the stories from the dryads. Narnia's last king died at least 40 years before the coming of the White Witch. There was no king in Narnia from that time until my brothers were crowned."

"Oh he wasn't the king of Narnia," explained King Lune. "They say he just got the title after he liberated the Lone Islands from Eastern Ocean pirates. I think he may have been a vassal of Aslan. The Duke of Lantern Waste was the same. Some say he was proclaimed duke after he freed the magical creatures of the Western Woods from slave traders."

Susan mouth fell open. "Why haven't I heard of these noblemen before? Surely such deeds would have been remembered."

"Well, my dear," said King Lune. "I suppose, just as you said records were destroyed during the reign of the White Witch. What we know, we got mostly from bedtime stories we heard from our parents and grandparents. Even Archenland's not spared. You do know there was a time when the White Witch's supporters took over Anvard and burned it to the ground. My grandfather told me how he and the Archenlanders escaped to Mount Pire and our people had lived there in hiding for two generations. That horn," he shook his head. "It was the only thing of value that he managed to save from the Golden Age. It remains a symbol of hope for us."

"Fascinating," said Susan as she stared at the horn again. There seemed to be so much she didn't know about the history of her own country. She was so glad she had met Lune and Corinna again. "But tell me more about these two… shall we call them friends of Lady Swanwhite?"

"Oh there's not much that we know about them," said Corinna. "Only that the Duke of Lantern Waste was this handsome dark-haired youth who was wise beyond his years."

Corinna paused to sigh and a dreamy expression lit her face. "But the other one was more interesting. They say he was even more handsome—tall, golden haired—and a great fighter. I think I could just imagine how poor King Colin felt when he saw that Emperor getting along with the maiden he was in love with."

"I could imagine as well," scowled King Lune. His arms were crossed on his chest and he was looking quite put out. "I'm horribly jealous that my wife is fawning over a dead emperor who she has never even seen."

Susan had to laugh at his expression. But Corinna merely scowled back at her husband. "If you must know, I used to dream about marrying someone like him when I was a girl."

"So why did you settle for me?" he asked with mock indignation. Susan noted that his hair was as dark as hers.

Corinna pretended to be disappointed. "Oh bother, you're right. If I waited a while, High King Peter fits the description too and I could have gotten him."

This time King Lune's expression was authentically indignant. Susan clutched her stomach as uncontrollable laughter wracked her body.

"But then again," continued Corinna as if she was oblivious to her husband. "He's a little too young for me." She rubbed the back of her arm against his cheek then gave him a peck on the lips. His expression immediately melted. "I like them older, but not as old as that emperor. I like the real king right in front of me. And I think I made the right choice just like Lady Swanwhite." She kissed him again and Susan couldn't help but be envious of them. The King and Queen of Archenland were obviously very much in love. She secretly wondered if she could possibly find a love just as strong as theirs.

The King and Queen parted abruptly and blushed as if they suddenly remembered that Susan was there.

"I'm sorry, my dear," the King apologized. "Ahem… well anyway, as the story goes, in the end Lady Swanwhite still chose to marry King Colin and had a son and two daughters with him who continued the royal family line of Archenland. She, however, maintained a strong friendship with both Narnian lords until the White Witch arrived. She probably died by then, since her story ends there."

"It was a lovely story," remarked Susan.

"Yes, it is," said the king. "But I do believe it's time for supper." And he graciously led the two queens out.

The king and queen continued to talk animatedly on other trivial things, but Susan only half-listened. Her mind had drifted back to the horn and the story of Lady Swanwhite. Even as the night wore on and she had retired to bed, Susan lay awake for several hours and thought of nothing but the horn.

Finally, she got out of bed and quietly tiptoed down the hallway. She estimated that it was probably nearing midnight and the corridors were empty. She reached the throne room which was dark save for a bit of moonlight that shone through the high windows. The horn hung on its place and it seemed to beckon to her somehow. She stared at it for a long moment, thinking of the woman who last blew it.

_I'll just hold it,_ she thought. _I just want to know how it feels in my hands. _

Slowly, she unhooked the horn from its peg. It felt smooth to her touch and she gently caressed the precious object. For some reason it felt right in her grasp. Without thinking she raised the horn to her lips, closed her eyes and blew.

The most resonant, most beautiful note emitted from it and she felt an overwhelming sense of pride and peace come over her. Slowly, she opened her eyes and abruptly stopped her blowing. Something was happening. The throne room was changing, melting before her eyes. She clutched the horn to her chest, immediately guilty and afraid of what she had done. She attempted to return the horn to its place in the wall, but realized the peg was no longer there. In fact there was nothing there now but thin air that was slowly morphing into something else. A moment later, she found herself standing in a completely different room. The floors were of marble and there were rich curtains and fine furniture. The new walls that stretched farther than the original were decorated with paintings of various people she didn't recognize. One prominent picture caught her eye. It was that of a young man wearing royal robes and there was a crown on his head. She stared up at his kindly face and it struck her that somehow he looked like King…

She stopped and shook her head. _King who?_

She continued to stare at the painting, confused. Why was she staring at the painting? What was she doing a moment ago?

"Who are you?" a voice boomed from behind her.

Surprised, she quickly turned around and saw the same young man as in the painting in front of her though his face wore an accusatory look.

She could do nothing but stare at him. His eyes reverted to something she was holding and his eyes blazed with fury.

"I asked you a question," he said harshly. "Who are you? And what are you doing with the Horn of Helen?"

She continued to stare at him and shook her head. Finally she found her voice. "I… I… don't know."

**A/N: There you have it, a really nice long chapter that I think is illuminating enough. I gave a lot of details here so I guess by now you all have a clue where this story is going. But I put a cliffie just the same. I've got so many ideas for this, it's quite overwhelming. I really got inspired by the unfinished tales of Narnia. I actually have plot bunnies of possible outtakes running of this in my head. They are all hopping around like mad trying to convince me to write them. So expect a few more short side stories after this one if ever I get around to writing them down. **

**To those who are a bit unfamiliar of the unfinished tales that I mentioned, here's the rundown based on the books and C.S. Lewis' timeline:**

**Gale – King Gale was the ninth king from King Frank I. He liberated the Lone Islands from a dragon and earned the title of Emperor of the Lone Islands that he passed on to all subsequent kings of Narnia. In C.S. Lewis' timeline, he lived around 302 Narnian Time.**

**Queen Swanwhite – was, as Susan in this chapter mentioned, a Narnian Queen so beautiful any pool she looked into would show her image for a year and a day. The time when she reigned however is a bit confusing. In LB, it was mentioned that she lived before the White Witch though there was no date. However, in the Timeline, C.S. Lewis indicated she lived after the Golden Age. I decided to follow what's in LB so I placed her reign directly after Gale.**


	8. Marina

_A/N: I was stuck in an island for a week where the Internet access is waaay to expensive to use, so I wasn't able to update for a while. Anyway I'm raising the rating of this story to T due to violence which will be coming later. _

**Chapter Seven**

**Marina**

Lucy gasped as water began to fill her lungs and she vainly struggled, kicking madly and fighting against drowning. Suddenly she felt a hand grasp her face and a pair of lips came upon hers for a full minute before she was released. She opened her eyes and realized she wasn't struggling anymore. She could breathe easily but she was still underwater.

The old mermaid was before her offering her a hand.

"Who are you?" Lucy asked doubtfully. She knew it was the mermaid that saved her life by somehow giving her the ability to breathe when she kissed her. Yet fear still gripped her on why the mermaid asked Lucy to follow her in the first place.

The mermaid eyed her sadly. "You don't remember, do you?"

"Remember what? Who are you?"

The mermaid gasped as if she was having a difficult time talking.

"Come with me, we must go deeper. I cannot stand water so near the surface."

The mermaid dived deeper. Lucy had a moment of indecision. Should she follow the mermaid into the depths of the ocean? But she felt a feeling of familiarity and trust, not unlike what she felt for Mr. Tumnus when she met him the first time. She followed the mermaid and was surprised that she can swim just as fast when before she could barely move forward in the water. It was also dark here, yet somehow she could see everything as bright as day.

The mermaid led her towards the ocean floor and there Lucy could see the wreck of old ship, covered mostly with sea plants and coral. It was huge. Lucy figured it was a galleon probably as large as the Splendour Hyaline. She could just imagine how it looked liked in its heyday.

The mermaid came to rest on the sand using soft water plants as a cushion and began breathing heavily. She gestured for Lucy to sit beside her. Lucy stood on the sand a short distance away.

"My name is Marina," she stared at Lucy as if waiting for a reaction. Lucy said nothing.

"I suppose it's too much to expect for you to remember my name. But no matter, I assure you I was and still your old friend."

"But we've just met." said Lucy and she held out a hand to shake before remembering that most Narnian creatures didn't understand that gesture. "I'm Lucy, Queen of Narnia."

To Lucy's surprise Marina took her hand and shook it properly. The mermaid had such a joyful look in her face that Lucy figured if she were on land, there would be tears falling down her face. "Are you truly the Queen now? Because that would mean the awful time is over, just as he promised!"

"I don't… follow," said Lucy.

The mermaid grasped both of Lucy's hands in her own and kissed them. "Oh my dear, I knew it! I knew it would be you! You have defeated the White Witch! Just as Aslan said humans will one day. How fortunate am I to live to see it! I can die in peace now and join my sisters."

"Die?" said Lucy, alarmed.

"Yes dear. I can feel it. I only have a few minutes left. I feel my body disintegrating. I wish I could have more time. How I would like to tell you all. But I've had more than 300 years. The others had less than that. I am the last of the mermaids in these Islands but in Narnia where you rule I know there are young ones still. Take care of them."

"Yes… yes I will," promised Lucy, though a million questions still plagued her. "But why are you the only one?"

"The Witch and her followers killed them all, dear. I am sorry. I know you don't remember them, but promise me you'll mourn them… mourn all our brave mermaid friends and if you can, mourn for me." Marina was pleading so desperately Lucy could only nod though she hardly understood anything she said.

Lucy felt the hand that clutched hers disintegrate into bubbles. She had read from Mr. Tumnus' books that when mermaids die they become foam. But it was one thing to read the description from a book and actually see it happen. It was heartbreaking yet somehow lightening. It was like watching something noble dissolving into the sea but will set her free back into the waters where she belonged.

"The pearl, Luciana!" Marina cried. "I kept it for you… Hid it… main cabin… where I found you… first time. Inside… broken lantern…"

Her voice died as her face withered away into foam. Lucy clutched at the bubbles desperately, but it was no use. The mermaid was gone and Lucy felt paralyzed for a long moment with grief. She sobbed continuously for what may have been hours though she felt no heat from her tears for they mixed immediately with the sea water as soon as they fell from her eyelids. She imagined that her tears joined with the foam that was once Marina and all the other mermaids that died and became foam. That comforted her somehow that she left them this one tribute.

When Lucy finally calmed down, she remembered Marina's last words. _What pearl was she talking about? Only one way to find out._

She swam towards the wreck and found a gaping hole at the side of the ship. She figured the ship must have been here for centuries for it was mostly encrusted with coral and sand. She had no trouble finding the main cabin for the ship was modeled similar to the Splendour Hyaline. There in the center of the cabin hung a lantern from a hook on the ceiling. Unlike the rest of the ship it was free from coral, as if it was regularly cleaned and cared for.

She took it down from the hook and opened it. There it was: a single perfectly formed pearl. She shook it out of the lantern and let it fall into her palm. She touched it with the tip of her index finger.

She felt something like a strong wave pass her and she panicked thinking the old wreck was collapsing due to age. She shut her eyes to combat the dizziness and held her arms over her head to protect herself from falling debris, but nothing hit her.

She looked up. She was standing in the middle of a ruined ship's cabin, underwater! She puzzled for a moment why she was able to breathe normally, let alone still be alive. She felt something in her palm and saw that she was holding a pearl. She was about to examine it when a shadow appeared by the collapsed door. Frightened, she dropped the pearl in her pocket.

"W-who's there?" she asked.

A face appeared framed by long dark hair. Then a pair of arms, bare breasts and below that, a fish's tale showed. It was a mermaid.

She stared at the mermaid completely puzzled. The mermaid stared back with equal surprise and bewilderment.

"Who are you?" asked the mermaid. She stared hard at her, as if taking in her form. "Are you a Sea Girl?"

She shook her head. "What's a Sea Girl?"

"You look like one, but… you don't have gills and your skin is different," said the mermaid.

"I'm human," she said. "I'm…" Her voice died out, for she couldn't remember her name. In fact, she couldn't remember anything that happened to her until about five seconds ago. "I—I don't know who I am… I can't remember."

And she was suddenly afraid. _Who am I? What am I doing here? I'm human, I know but how come I'm underwater talking to a mermaid? And why am I not dead yet?_

"What are you doing here on the Luciana?" asked the mermaid.

"I don't know… what's the Luciana?"

"We're in it. It's the name of the ship. It's an old Narnian galleon. They say it's the royal flagship of the first king, but it sank hundreds of years ago. This is now my favorite place."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude… I… I just don't know how I got here."

The mermaid stared at her, as if appraising her carefully.

"Your eyes tell no lie," said the mermaid. "But if you're human, how come you can breathe here? I've never met you before. I thought I was the only one with that gift."

"Gift?"

"To allow land creatures to breathe in the sea. I have never given you my kiss, how come you can breathe here?" The mermaid's tone had taken one of doubt.

She shook her head, unable to answer. She was growing more and more terrified by the minute. She tried to jag her memory of who she was, of familiar lands and places. Yet there was nothing. It was like her whole life had been erased. She covered her eyes with her hands and shivered with dread.

"Are you alright?" asked the mermaid.

She shook her head again and she began to cry. "I don't know who I am. I don't even know what happened to me before you came. I'm sorry… please help me…"

The mermaid put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I don't know about that… perhaps if we take you to the surface—"

"Marina!"

The call startled them both.

"Marina! Come home, quickly!"

"It's my sister. I have to go."

The idea of being left behind all alone in this vast ocean was even more frightening to her. "Please don't leave me!" she cried.

"Marina!"

"I'm coming!" shouted back the mermaid.

"Stay here," ordered the mermaid though her voice was calm. "I'll be back for you."

"But—"

"I'm sorry, I really have to go I—"

"Marina, for the last time…" the second voice appeared to be nearer and suddenly a second mermaid appeared. She looked like the first mermaid. They had the same hair and shade of tail but she appeared older. She stopped as she saw the pair of them.

"Marina, what is that?" asked the older mermaid.

"I—I found her here," replied Marina. "She said she's human."

But the older mermaid was staring at her with frightened and suspicious eyes. She pulled her sister away.

"Stay back! We want no trouble. Our escort is nearby. If you do anything we'll scream and our mother will hear of it."

"But I'm not going to hurt you."

There was a sudden loud noise as if someone had blown a horn underwater. All three of them shivered with alarm.

"It's the signal!" cried the older mermaid. "We have to go!"

"But what about her?" Marina asked.

"Leave her! She might be a Sea-person!"

"What's happening?" cried the girl.

Marina looked wildly from her to her sister. She seemed to reach as decision. She grabbed the girl's arm. "Come on, we have to get to the shelter!"

"Marina!"

"I can't leave her here to die!"

Marina tugged at her arm and soon all three of them were swimming quickly out of the wreck. The signal started again and she could see all kinds of sea creatures scrambling to find shelter. The sight of their panic made her even more afraid but she dared not speak to Marina.

Finally they came to a cluster of rocks, encrusted with coral. Marina dragged her in and soon darkness enveloped them.


	9. The Galley Slave

_**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait. I'm having a problem writing Edmund's story so I decided on Peter first. _

**Chapter Eight**

**The Galley Slave**

He had lost track of the days. Here in this prison that had almost no light, it was impossible to count. Everyday was the same. The cold, the hunger, the exhaustion, the insults, the stench, and the never-ending lilting of the ship as it moved forward into unknown seas.

The cruel brutality of it all shocked him. He may not remember who he was but he knew he had never been treated this way. He was never forced to eat food that was barely fit for humans. He had never been made to work tirelessly while his feet were in shackles. And certainly he had never been mocked so harshly in his life. Surely, if he did encounter such things before, he would find it easier to bear. But no, each hour, each minute dragged on like an endless nightmare that began when he felt that blade on his throat that must have pierced and torn off the memory of who he was.

When he awoke in this wretched place, he knew immediately he was in the lower deck of a ship. The salty air and the movement gave away that much, as well as the shape of the bare room he was in. Several hours later the man whose hand he cut off came in. He thought he would certainly be killed, but the man who he later learned was named Antinous only came to insult and lay a few blows to him. None of them were fatal, for as Antinous pointed out, he was worth nothing dead. Antinous kept calling him "Emperor Gale" and when he was satisfied with beating him up, he tossed him the wooden sword he remembered carrying before:

"Here's your little toy, your highness!" he said before leaving him alone to moan his wounds. He held on to the sword as if it was a precious object and spent hours caressing the engraving until he had memorized every curve of those four letters.

"Gale," he whispered to himself. Even though every time Antinous called him that it was only to insult him, he found the name appealing. It had a noble ring to it and he decided that until he knew his real name, he would take the name as his own. He tried to recall anything and came up with quite a lot of things, but nothing about his own personal circumstances. He knew this was the Eastern Ocean, he even remembered that he was in the city of the Narrowhaven in the Lone Islands before he was captured. He knew his geography and he could even draw a map in his head. But when he tried to remember a name he knew, a face, nothing came to mind. Well, nothing except one—Aslan.

_The Great Lion._ He knew it as if it was by instinct. He had a memory clear as day of meeting this wonderful king face to face and he knew that he owed something to him, though the details would not surface in his mind.

It was here in his moment of despair that he called out to Aslan. He prayed solemnly and somehow the cold, his hunger and the pain of his wounds seemed to ease. Later one of the men tossed him stale bread and a cup of water. That was the only meal he had for what seemed like two days. The food came more regularly after that, but the quality didn't improve and it was usually accompanied by insults. The reason for the food rations was not out of compassion, but because of the new arrivals.

Twenty-three men were pushed inside the cell with him—all of them obviously slaves who were captured like him by these filthy band of thieves. He tried to talk to them but it appeared that they didn't speak the same language as he. Or if they did, they simply didn't want to talk to strangers, particularly one whose face they couldn't even see in this dim light.

The next day, Antinous ordered them out of their cell and they were brought to a higher part of the ship where they were made to sit on rough wooden benches, four to a row. Then their feet were shackled together with chains.

Here, there was more light and he could finally glimpse the faces of his companions. They were a mixture of races and of various ages, but somehow they all looked the same. He realized it was the expression of hopelessness that made them similar. He wondered dreadfully if he would one day look just like that.

He was shackled next to a dark young man with long black hair, a little older than himself. He appeared to be just as dirty as the others, but there was something different about him. There was a defiant gleam in his eyes that revealed his spirit was still unbroken.

Their smug-looking supervisor ordered them to row. It was terrible, terrible experience. The heat competed with the pain that his limbs endured as he put all his strength on the heavy oars. Some of the men collapsed eventually after what seemed like hours and it was only the providence of fair wind that met the ship that saved them from rowing on.

He said a silent prayer to Aslan while at the same time he heard a whisper next to him:

"Tash, the inexorable, I thank you for preserving my strength."

He met the Calormene's eye in an effort to strike a conversation, but the darker man simply looked away in an off-hand, seemingly haughty manner.

The chain that bound them was removed but the shackles on their ankles were retained. They were returned to their cell and given a bit more water and food. Again, he knew this was not an act of kindness but a need to keep them alive until they reach their destination—the slave market.

The days that followed were all the same. They were forced to row whenever fair wind could not be had—which was not often. However, this also meant a smaller food and water ration.

None of the slaves would still talk to him and he gave up trying. But he felt something akin to a connection with the young Calormene. They never spoke a word but they always sat next to each other in their cell and whenever they were sent to row. They could always tell how to coordinate their movements so they could perform their task more effectively. He spent most of his time in prayer to Aslan and he could often hear almost a similar whispered supplication to Tash from the Calormene next to him.

There however, came a day when he had reached the end of his despair. His breakfast was a summon to row. As always, he was shackled with four other men and ordered to work. He sensed the crew who supervised them were a bit apprehensive. They were fidgety and were whispering importantly.

"Faster! Faster!" came the order with a crack of the whip.

He forced himself to do so and saw his Calormene seatmate adjusted as he did.

"Faster! Faster!" the order came even more frantically, though he hardly noticed it. He was far too busy putting everything his muscles could give. He was weakening for he had nothing to eat or drink since the night before and it wasn't much.

"Faster! Put it all, we have to go faster!" He noted the desperation in that order, but he had little time to think for the two other men he shared the oar with the Calormene had collapsed. That was something unfortunate. With two less to row, it left him and the Calormene to compensate. Yet, the supervisor didn't let up and the order to go faster went on. He cracked his whip across the two who had fallen but they were unable to pick up.

The ship gave a sudden lurch and all the slaves and even the supervisor was thrown to a side. It was a painful thing for the heavy chains cut through their skin at the impact. The supervisor was up in a moment and he cracked his whip again and ordered them to return to their places.

"Ignore it! Row! Row faster!"

He could no longer think. The pain of his bloodied feet and his screaming tired muscles was too much. His shaking arms let go of the oar and he slumped down into the hard floor. His felt his torso suddenly pulled up and he saw the face of the Calormene.

"Get up and row!" It was the first time he heard the Calormene speak out loud. His voice held a mix of authority and worried urgency. The Calormene placed his hands on the oar then pulled on it to urge him.

He tried to follow, but he simply didn't have the strength.

"Row!" the Carlormene cried desperately. "Row before—"

"_Crack!"  
_

The pain of the whip on his back caused him to shudder but he could do no more than cringe at the pain.

"_Crack!"_

The second whip came as no surprise but it stung him just the same.

"_Crack! Crack! Crack!"_

He wanted it all to end. He felt complete misery and loneliness, thinking how he had been reduced to the plight of a dog.

_No, that's not right,_ he thought. A nagging memory of a dog came to his head and he found the metaphor to be quite wrong. He remembered dogs were treated better than this.

_Where are you Aslan? How I need you now! If it is in your power, end my suffering, take my life now, please!_

He didn't know when he began to see it. It might have appeared instantaneously and he was slow to react or it could have been appearing little by little, he couldn't tell. He was so weak by now that he doubted even his sense of sight. But it was there: a brilliant golden light that shone in front of him that was gradually morphing into something that he recognized as a lion. For a time, he thought maybe it was just a hallucination. If it was, he wished it wouldn't end, for the sight was soothing to him who had been in the dark so long.

"My son!" the Lion spoke. It was the most beautiful voice he had heard and it seemed like he could feel no pain or hunger or cold.

"Aslan…"

"Do not despair, trust in me, your deliverance will be at hand."

"But who am I? Why am I here? And why do I not have any memories?"

"Your memories have been erased temporarily for a reason. For you have a task set for you and there is much for you to learn. Do not spend time trying to know your old life, but learn what you can of this life."

He felt a surge of disappointment that he would not know of his past. "But where do I begin? How?" he asked.

"Trust your instincts and have faith. I am always with you." Then he felt the Lion's breath and all at once he felt renewed strength come with him. But at the same time the light was fading and the image of the lion disappeared.

He shut his eyes as if to recall the image back and slowly sleep took him.

He awoke to sharp pain all over his body. _It was only a dream,_ he thought. _I am back in the slave ship still alive—still in misery._

But then the sound of a soft calming voice caught his attention. It wasn't Aslan—for it didn't have the same melodious tones, but it was someone kind.

"This one's still alive. He looks young," he heard the voice said. "Can't be more than sixteen, poor boy." He felt something wet at his lips and he realized it was water. Cool, sweet refreshing water. He thirstily drank until the cup that held it was empty.

His feet felt cold and he realized his feet were submerged in water. He felt something hard strike at the chain in his feet and he cried out in pain. Strong but gentle hands however, steadied him.

"It's alright, we just need to get the chains out. It will be over soon. Hurry! Hurry before the ship fills!"

The striking went on, and he felt pain at each one. But then he felt the chains give way and he felt so much better. Another cup of water was held to his lips and he drank until it was empty. It was only then that he managed to look up and met the dark eyes of this kind stranger.

"What's your name, lad?"

"Gale," he whispered.

"Count yourself fortunate, Gale," said the man. "You will live yet. Come quickly, can you walk?"

He found that he could stand up with a bit of assistance, though walking was a more difficult task, especially with sea water filling up the floor. But his rescuer was patient with him and let him lean on him and even half-carried him up the stairs towards the top deck.

When he finally came out into the open deck, he found the sun hurt his eyes. But the open air revived him and he gulped it down as if his life depended on it.

"That's it lad. Deep breaths. You can never have enough of it." His rescuer was an aged man, probably in his fifties, sixty perhaps. His hair was dirty grey and his face was wrinkled. But  
Gale likened him to a kind old father—a thought that was quite comforting. The man led Gale to lean at a wooden cask and when he finally calmed down enough and his eyes adjusted he finally took on everything.

The slave ship was quite large but very dirty and it had no banner at all. That wasn't surprising as pirate slave traders usually didn't have one. The ship was lilting to one side and he knew immediately that it was close to sinking. They had get off it soon!

All around him, a few of his fellow slaves were being brought up. He saw his Calormene companion among them. He was able to walk by himself though he too looked as weak as he did. The poop deck was littered with bodies of men, most of them unmoving, some moaning in pain. He knew then a fierce fight had gone on here. Some of the men he recognized as among those of the crew of the slave traders were tied and were forced into a kneeling position. Gale looked away. He hadn't the strength to contemplate what would happen to the slavers.

He turned instead to a more delightful sight. There across the starboard side was a smaller ship whose sails seemed to be in need of repair and its planks and mast were weather-worn. Yet, somehow he thought it looked more inviting than the one he was in. At its fore was the figure of a lady in a flowing dress of white with her long hair painted black that hung behind her. An image flashed into his mind of a beautiful girl in white with kindhearted deep blue eyes. However, it disappeared as quickly as it came and he was back to staring at the ship. He read the name on its side: Suzannah. He rather liked the name.

His rescuer came up behind him and offered his arm. "Come now lad, we need to get off the boat before she goes down." Gale took it and let himself be led up the gangplank to transfer to the smaller ship. He collapsed on the deck and breathed deeply again. His rescuer went back to help the other men transfer the rest of the slaves until finally they pulled the gangplank away and let the ships drift apart. He noticed that there were still men onboard the slave ship. He recognized Antinous as among them. The pirate captain appeared to be looking at his direction, but he didn't know if he could really see him.

Gale watched as the slave ship began to sink, aft side first. Its fore finally rose in the air before it bobbled down into the water with the rest of its body. He wasn't sorry for the cruel man and his crew left onboard. In a few minutes there was nothing left but barrels and planks of wood floating in the reddish purple waters that reflected the sunset sky.

Gale's rescuer knelt down beside him, bearing a metal spike and hammer. Wordlessly, he aimed the pick towards his feet and for a moment Gale was frightened.

"Do not be afraid, I just need to remove the shackles."

Gale nodded and braced himself. The pain was enough to make him scream. The four other slaves that were rescued with him were certainly doing that as their own shackles were being broken. But Gale put up a brave face, bit his tongue and endured it without a sound. He noticed his Calormene companion also accepted his liberation from the metal shackles with quiet dignity.

When it was over, he could see the blood oozing on his raw ankles, but it was just so relieving to be free again. Someone brought down a basin of water and a piece of rag. His rescuer began to sponge his legs as gently as he could, then addressed to his wounds on his back.

"Must have been some beating you had, lad," his rescuer laid him down on the deck and bid him to rest. Gale gave him a grateful look. He knew he could trust this man and for a while he let himself sleep.


	10. Prisoner at the Tower

_**A/N:** I know, I know, mega delay in update. But a lot's been going on with my family right now with weddings, funerals and board exams. I couldn't have time to write. Plus, I'm still stuck on the ideas for Edmund's story so I'm sending off Susan first. _

**Chapter Nine**

**Prisoner at the Tower**

"How did you get inside the castle?" the man insisted.

She shook her head. "I already told you, I don't know!" she cried. "I don't remember."

The man huffed. "Don't remember? Or you refuse to tell us, you filthy little thief!"

His words stung her and fresh tears fell down her cheeks. This interrogation had been going on for hours.

Earlier that evening, she had been taken by guards to this spare room on top of a high tower after the young man who found her with the horn raised the alarm. Here the young man who she assumed must be a prince or a king based on his royal robes and the gold crown on his head began to ask her questions: What was she doing in the royal throne room of Archenland? Who was she? Why did she try to steal the horn?

She could not utter a word in answer as she was too confused. There were too many questions raging in her own head. She could not remember anything that happened before she was staring at the painting of the young monarch.

"Just tell me the truth," the young king/prince said. He had kind eyes and she hated the idea that he thought she was someone dishonest. "You don't look like a thief," he said, noting her white gown. In fact she was dressed just as splendidly as he was, maybe even more so. "You're only a child. Has someone put you up to do this?"

She thought that surely, this was all a misunderstanding. The young royal would know she was innocent, as she was sure she was, though she had no recollection of what happened to her before. But she never got to give an answer to her defense. The door of the room banged open and in walked an older man. He was probably past his forties, with a bit of grey streak on his neatly cut hair. He walked straight and confident. But his face was grim and hard. Whatever hope she had of being understood and set free ended when she saw him. The nightmare began.

"Minister Barrin, I'm sorry if you were bothered at this time of night. But you need not have come."

"It's no bother, my king," he said. "Duty chooses no time and I came voluntarily as soon as I heard." The older man stared at her with his those steel grey eyes of his and she cowered with fright. "Is this the little thief then?" His gaze rested on her face and he seemed to be taken aback. Then his eyes traveled downwards and settled on her breast. Her heart hammered and she stepped back and crossed her arms across her chest protectively.

He suddenly came forward and grasped the hem of her dress. She gave a cry and made a move to push his hand away but he let go abruptly.

"Narnian silk," the minister said. "Quite rare and very expensive since the Narnians stopped producing them for export for almost a hundred years. Only royalty in Archenland can wear these now. Where did you get it?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

"LIAR!" he roared. "You stole it didn't you? Perhaps from one of the royal wardrobes!"

"Barrin," said the young king. "I've never seen that dress before. I'm sure my mother never had one like it. And if she did, it would probably look old, this one looks like it's brand new."

"That doesn't mean she didn't steal it from some other noble lady's chest." He stopped and a gleam came on his eye that made her shudder. "Take it off!"

She blushed hard and fresh tears came down her cheeks.

"Take it off!" the cruel minister repeated.

"Barrin, is that really necessary?" asked the king.

"Well, it is if we are to return it to its proper owner, Sire. We can ask the ladies of the court if any one of them owns the dress. So take it off now!"

"P-please… don't…" She turned her gaze to the king and pleaded for his intervention. Fortunately he did.

"Barrin, be reasonable," said the king. "We can't have her well…" He blushed himself. "We ought to spare the girl some honour."

"Alright then, send for some common garments, and let her change into that."

The king sent one of the guards and in a few minutes they returned with plain cotton peasant's dress that had seen better days. The king seemed to understand her predicament and ordered everyone out of the room for a few minutes so she could change in private. The dress wasn't as warm as her gown or as comfortable but she was grateful at least that she was allowed common decency. But when the men returned after she was dressed, the Minister snatched her white gown from her hands and examined it.

"The embroidery here is quite elaborate. That could just double the price if it is just a plain Narnian silk dress," remarked the Minister. He turned to her again. "I repeat the question: where did you steal it?"

"I didn't steal it!"

"Then where did you get it?"

"I don't know," she cried.

The Minister continued to eye her warily. His eyes gleamed at a sudden idea. "Or perhaps, you didn't steal it at all…"

"What do you mean?" asked the king.

"Oh your highness, I think we are dealing with something more dangerous here. Perhaps she is a spy, a Calormene spy."

The king snorted. "A spy? Look at her skin. Does she look anyway like a Calormene to you?"

"Your highness, do not be so deceived. You think that Calormenes are not clever enough to use a race of our own for a spy? Why they could easily get a white slave from Terebinthia and pass her off as a duchess in Archenland."

The king shook his head. "But she's just a child. She can't be more than fifteen years."

"Then the Calormenes are even more clever than we thought," replied the minister. "Who would suspect a child?" He eyed her again. "Oh they could train them so young."

And so the interrogation went on. At length, she grew tired from standing. The king offered to let her sit down, but the minister told her otherwise. So she remained standing without even a wall to lean on. The cruel minister shot her so many questions: Who did she work for? Where did she come from? What information was she supposed to retrieve?

She only shook her head and repeated the truth: she knew nothing.

"Please, please, I'm not lying," she begged when she could stand no longer. She suspected it was nearing daylight. She looked to the king who looked just as tired as she was.

"Perhaps we can continue this some other time, Barrin," he said.

"Nonsense," said the cruel older man. "When she reaches her breaking point, she will crack and we'll have the truth out. But if you're tired your majesty, I understand. You may leave me to continue this." He had the gleam in his eye again and his gaze drifted to her bosom. She knew immediately she would not be safe with this man. Her gaze shifted to the king and she begged him with her eyes not to leave her alone.

The king looked sadly at her and she could see hope of her salvation there. He seemed to desperately want to believe her and was reluctant to leave her in such a state.

"Perhaps a little refreshment and a seat," he said. "The girl has been standing for hours."

The minister however, shook his head but said condescendingly. "Your highness, you are young yet and only had been king for three months. Not that I doubt your abilities Sire, but there are things you are yet to know. These things are unpleasant, but are essential for the security of the kingdom. But at the moment, I would gladly take them for you. You may retire ahead."

Panic rose in her. And she came forward to clutch at the king's sleeve. "Please! Please! Don't go! Don't leave me!"

The king placed a hand upon hers to calm her, but the minister wrenched her away and pushed her violently aside. She hit the wall and collapsed to the floor. Her arm, she knew was bruised on the impact and her shoulders would bear bruises from the minister's tight grip.

"Keep your distance, Sire," warned minister to the king who made a move to help her up. "She could be dangerous."

She couldn't prevent tears from pouring down her cheeks but she struggled to keep from whimpering. _Oh Aslan! _She gasped inwardly and she felt a surge of hope rise within her. She remembered with relief, the face of that Great Lion. She remembered his loving breath, his strong yet gentle voice and the feel of his fur on her as she rode him with… She couldn't remember. But for now it was enough. And she felt as if his familiar voice was telling her: _"Fear not, daughter. I will protect you."_

The door suddenly burst open and a page came in.

"Your majesty!"

"What now?" thundered Barrin irritably.

The page cowered a little but faced the king. "Begging pardon, Sire, but it's urgent. Calormen has just declared war."

Immediately, the tension in the room rose. She saw the king's face whiten as a sheet and he swallowed hard. It took him a long moment to compose himself.

"Barrin," he said when he finally recovered. "We must go down now. We have to meet with our advisors and generals."

"Of course, Sire. But the girl…"

The king looked at her. "Later, we'll deal with her later."

"Of course," replied Barrin and he followed the king and his guards out of the cell. But before he did, he cast a malevolent glance at her and she knew she was only safe from him for the moment.

When she heard the lock of the door click, it was only then that she let herself sink to the floor and sob. She cried until she could cry no more. The sun finally rose and its rays filtered into her cell from the large window. She got up and looked out. The view here was breath-taking. She could see the lovely gardens of the palace below, a few smaller towers and the courtyard. Farther off was the city. She could discern the market at a distance and she could see people walking around like ants, beginning a new day. From the position of the sun, she knew that the window faced south. Her line of vision ended with the mountain ranges. She knew, as if by instinct, that the two peaks she could glimpse was Mt. Pire and farther off she knew was the great desert where Calormen lay. She wondered if perhaps the minister had spoken the truth. That she was indeed a Calormene spy. But try as she would recall anything about Calormen, she could think of nothing.

A bell suddenly tolled. It was a like an alarm, urgently calling on everyone. She remembered the page's message and realized this was a country readying itself for war. She recalled the king's face when he had heard the news and somehow she felt a sense of pity for him. _How apprehensive he must be now? How frightened is he for his people. _It struck her as funny that she could somehow relate to his situation as if she had been in such a position herself too.

She sang softly to herself, partly to amuse her, partly to prevent her hopelessness from depressing her further. She sang many songs that seem to come to her on the impulse and for a while it relieved her of her misery and boredom. But as the hours dragged on, Boredom was no longer her primary concern, but hunger and thirst. She slept at noon to relieve the ache but when she woke up at sunset, she felt doubly hungry and miserable. By evening, the tower grew cold and dark. It was rather fortunate that there was a moon or else she had no light at all. She sat by the window, watching stars while hugging herself by the knees.

It was probably late evening at her estimate, when the silence of her surroundings was disturbed by the sound of footsteps climbing up the stairs that led to her door. She quietly moved towards the door, awaiting apprehensively on who would come up.

_Oh Aslan, don't let it be that horrible minister_, she prayed

The footsteps came to stop outside her door. She could not see of course who was there but she could hear someone pacing around, as if unsure whether or not to enter. She put her ear to the door to listen.

"What am I doing here?" she heard a soft male voice whisper, followed by a deep sigh. "Oh Aslan, what do I do?"

The person's mention of Aslan assured her somehow and she wondered if perhaps she could talk to this person. She was sure he was not the malicious minister. She noticed that the bottom of the door had some sort of a small window, big enough only for something like food to slide in. Curiosity of the person's identity won her over and she slowly slid the door slightly.

She had a view of a pair of boots that kept pacing around. It went on for quite a while, when the boots suddenly stopped and the owner sat down on the ground, his back to her door. He recognized immediately the royal robes of the young king.

Summoning her courage, she spoke up. "Hello?" she began tentatively.

The king startled and noticed her little window. "How did you…" He composed himself and stared at her. "Have you been listening there the whole time?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Then it struck her how hungry she was and how cruel he was to leave her here in the dark without any nourishment. She was suddenly angry at him. She got up from the floor and shouted. "I wasn't listening! I thought someone was coming up to torture me."

"Torture you?" he shouted back. "I don't torture little girls!"

"No, you only starve them to death!" she said sharply.

"I don't starve… wait, didn't anyone come up here since I left to give you anything?"

"No," she replied.

"You mean, no one's fed you anything?"

"No," she repeated softly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Wait! I'll be right back!"

She heard his footsteps scamper down the steps. Several minutes later his footsteps returned. But she could hear more than one pair of feet coming after him. She slid the little window open again, but she felt a jingle of keys.

"Stand back!" he ordered. "Put your back by the wall near the window."

Now she was frightened. She wanted to hit herself for speaking so boldly to him. Maybe he was insulted and perhaps now he would kill her. But nevertheless, she did as was told and came to stand at the wall as far from the door as possible.

The door burst open and the king was there followed by two guards. He ordered them to stand by at the door. Only the king went in and closed the door.

"Do you promise to behave yourself?" he asked her.

She nodded, not knowing what he would do.

He lay a bottle of wine and a bundle of cloth in the middle of the floor, then stepped back. "Go on," he said, indicating his offering.

She puzzled but came forward and opened the bundle. It was a half a dozen meat pies, some cheese, a few pieces of fruit and a cup—for the wine, she realized. Her heart melted.

"Thank you," she said. She took one of the pies and ate it, slowly. Even though she was famished, she knew her manners and even remembered to offer some to the king.

"Go on, it's all yours. Just keep your distance," he added cautiously. "Just to remind you, if you're planning to escape while I'm not looking, I have guards outside."

"I wasn't planning to," she said. Did he think she was stupid? No king would be foolish enough to be alone with a prisoner.

That appeared to assure him a little and he went to the large window and glanced out, sighing. For a long time neither of them spoke. The king kept glancing outside the window, deep in thought. She wondered why he was even here at all of all places but she dared not ask. Even after she finished her meal, his silence went on. It was killing her. A song came into her head and she began to sing:

_Great Lion of the east_

_King of all Narnian beasts_

_Hear your children left in cold_

_Give them faith, strength to hold_

_Deliver your people from death's jaws_

_Shelter them under your powerful paws_

_Bathe them in your breath of life_

_Ease their pain and end their strife_

"Are you mocking me?" the king suddenly interrupted, stopping her song.

"I'm sorry…"

"Why did you sing that song? How do you know it?" he demanded.

She shook her head. "I just know it by instinct. I don't know why, it just came to me."

"Where did you learn it then?"

"I don't know. I'm not lying. I don't even know what it is. I just know it's about Aslan…"

The king appraised her carefully. "It's a supplication hymn to Aslan sang by Archenlander and Narnian royalty, usually in times of trouble, particularly war." He paused again with a bewildered expression. "Who are you?"

She sighed. "Believe me, I would give anything to know, my lord," she replied. "Forgive me if I have offended you with the song," she added politely.

He shook his head. "No… no… I'm not offended. Sing it again."

So she did. When she finished, she repeated the song. By the third repeat, the king had joined her though his voice wasn't as pleasant as hers. It was rather hoarse and he was more often out of tune, making her conclude that he was hopeless as a singer. Still, he sang as if he was conveying a prayer and that touched her.

He stopped abruptly and she noticed tears glistening in his eyes though he was struggling not to show them.

"Are you alright, your highness?" she asked, understanding that he was now facing war.

He shook his head. "You wouldn't understand," he said.

"That you are worried your country is in peril?" she said. "That Calormen will take over, take your citizens as slaves and have you killed?"

He looked at her with surprise. "And what do you know about that? Have you come to spy on my country? You're a little late in delivering news to them then. Calormen has already declared war. Their army is now preparing to march through the desert. They will be here in a month, perhaps even less. I will be ready though. I have my own forces who can meet them. But I suppose you won't be able to tell them that anymore."

She rolled her eyes at him. Who was he fooling? For all his smug words, she knew he was scared out of his mind. The man—boy was practically displaying his feelings out on his sleeve. She knew that was a weakness and probably would cost him his kingdom even if he did have a good army. For what army would follow someone who was obviously afraid?

"I don't need to tell them anything. If you look like that in front of your troops, you might as well welcome the Calormene army to your gates."

His eyes immediately flashed dangerously at her. "Are you suggesting I'm a coward?"

She knew she shouldn't be upsetting this person as he held her life in his hands, but she couldn't help but retort back: "No, but I think you need a lesson at looking brave."

He glared at her.

She smiled at him. "There. Keep that face up, and perhaps there's hope for you yet."

"You seem to know so much about this? Why? Have you been trained in battle?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, I don't remember."

"And so we fall back into the old excuse," he said in that irritating cynical manner.

"It's not an excuse. I'm telling you the truth!"

He huffed. "We shall see." He looked about to leave but stopped halfway to the door. "What do you mean that I need a lesson in looking brave?"

He was annoying and she was glad for another go at him: "Haven't you heard of intimidation? Battles are half-won by appearances. If you have to go into battle, at least have the appearance of a victor. It would assure your troops at the least. Did not your father ever teach you that as the king?"

"No, he never had a chance to, we were always at peace."

"Then he was probably a great diplomat then," she said. She decided to leave it at that and not attach the insulting 'unlike you' at the end.

"He was…" he gave a sigh. "Not like me." His humble admission surprised her.

He stared back out into the window. "I wasn't meant to be king, but of course you already know that. Everyone knows that," he said sadly. She was suddenly guilty for mocking him. He truly looked ashamed of himself.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

The king eyed her warily. "Either you are pretending to be dumb or you never listen to news. I'm Colin, the accidental king of Archenland!" he said with hard sarcasm and a matching scowl.

She just gave him a confused expression.

He returned her gaze with one of exasperation. "Alright fine. For your sake—even though you may be pretending to not know anything about this—I'll tell it. I'm not my brother. I'm not Col. He was supposed to be king. He was born to be king and he had everything that could make him a good king. He was the brilliant one, the handsome one, the charismatic one—"

"The better singer?" she couldn't help but ask.

He glared at her but she could see he was trying hard not to chuckle. He finally hid it with a snort. It took him a moment to compose himself then continued on his rant. "It was supposed to be him, not me. I was meant to be a soldier, a general perhaps in the future—the one who fights, not the one who makes inspiring speeches or brings the entire responsibility of the country on his shoulders. But Col had to die the same day as my father and I'm left to pick everything up." He slumped against the wall with a defeated expression. "I never wanted this. If I could get them back, I would." He seemed close to tears but he turned to her again with a fierce look. "There, if you ever escape and go back to your master—whoever he is—you can have a good laugh and tell him of this weakling of a king. But I grant you, you won't escape not unless I have fallen to my death and my kingdom is conquered. Because I will die first before I let the Calormenes take Archenland."

She eyed him sadly. "You're not weak, just human," she said gently. She wanted so much to comfort this poor boy. He looked so young. He reminded her of someone else—someone she knew intimately who was placed in a similar situation where he was suddenly given with so much responsibility. But again, she couldn't remember who it was.

The king didn't reply and for a long time they were both quiet. Finally he said: "Sing that hymn again, please."

And she did. When she finished the king strode towards the door but he stopped halfway to look back at her. "I'll send for a bed for you tonight and some blankets. Is there anything else I could get for you?" he asked.

She thought for a while and realized she hated to be left here with nothing to do.

"A book, please. Something to pass the time."

He nodded. "You shall have it." And he left the door and shut the door gently, leaving her alone again but with much to think of.

_**A/N: **A note about war: in Hollywood films, it's like as soon as one declares war, you have the army at the enemy's gates. In reality, in medieval warfare, it takes several weeks to get a large army up and running and it takes even more time to travel. I thought maybe that from the time Calormen declares war with Archenland, they need at least a month to get there. In the Horse and His Boy, it's different. Prince Rabadash took only about a few days to get to Anvard because he only brought a small troop intending to seize Anvard and go from there to Narnia. _


	11. The Telmarines

_**A/N: **It's really hard getting this story going. I only have a vague idea on how to work on Edmund's and Lucy's stories and I'm finding it hard to have time to think of details. The next update is bound to be long since I'm also very busy during the holiday season. Anyway, here's my long overdue Christmas gift. _

**Chapter Ten**

**The Telmarines**

The boy had been walking for three days now, wandering aimlessly through these never-ending woods. It wasn't really an unpleasant experience. The woods were full of life. The trees were thick with leaves and several of them bore plenty of fruit. He never went hungry as it was easy enough to pick fresh fruits and berries whenever he felt it and wash it down with cool water from any nearby spring. The sounds of grasshoppers, frogs and birds burst into endless merry songs everywhere he went while the brightly coloured flowers always provided him something pleasant to look at. If he wasn't so worried about his missing memory and his being alone, he would be content to settle here. He felt comfortable in these woods.

Yet, still he longed to hear another voice. He aimed to find reassurance, some clue on who he really was. So he walked on, hoping for a settlement, a town or even just another human like him. Several times he thought he heard words of his own tongue said in quiet whispers. But whenever he ran forward to find the sounds, he found no one there at all but some small creature—a hare, a snake or a bird, no humans at all. Again and again it happened, but when it seems like when he would chance upon a voice, the person speaking would disappear before he found the source. At length, he wondered if it was perhaps just his imagination playing tricks on him.

It was nearing sunset and he was about to find a place to spend the night, when it happened again. He heard voices. He hesitated following it for a moment, thinking perhaps it was his imagination again. But the voices continued and it convinced him that they were real enough. He followed the sounds until he noticed the smell of smoke. Someone had obviously built a fire. He followed the scents and sounds, pushing past thick branches, until he discovered a clearing. He could see eight bulky men, all of fair skin and hair and older than him. They sat around the fire they built, roasting something over the coals. Their clothes were as coarse as the manner of their speech and they laughed mirthlessly over each others' stories. He felt something akin to dislike at their behavior and he deliberated for a long moment whether he wanted to show himself. For about half an hour, he remained in the bushes, quietly observing them. Eventually, he shifted his position to take a closer look and perhaps discern their words.

"_Crack!"_

He nearly jumped out of his skin. He had inadvertently stepped on a dried twig and the sound announced his presence. The men all looked up in alarm and drew their weapons: an assortment of swords, daggers, scimitars and axes.

"Who's there?! Show yourself!" challenged the biggest of the men.

There was nothing to do but comply. He was armed himself with a sword, but he didn't want to use force when he didn't have to. Besides, he doubted if he could take on all eight of them at once.

"Begging your pardon," he began. "I come in peace." He raised his arms as a gesture.

The men stared at him for a long-moment. They eyed him from head to toe and he knew they were contemplating his rather grand tunic and sword.

"Who are you?" asked the oldest-looking man. "Are you alone?"

He hesitated for a moment, but finally nodded.

"Are you lost lad?" The elderly man asked.

He hesitated again. He wasn't sure if that was a mistake, but it was enough answer for the men.

"Come sit by us then," the elderly man offered with a grin that revealed gold teeth. "Don't be scared. Have some mutton." He shouted at one of the other men to give him a piece and ordered for wine.

He decided that he might as well keep to the good side of these men so he sat down, a little distant from them though he stayed off on partaking the food and drink they offered. Something in him felt cautious about eating anything offered by strangers.

"What's your name boy?" the elderly man asked.

He bit his lip, unable to answer. He didn't know if he could trust these men with the knowledge that he couldn't remember.

The man could sense his discomfort and introduced himself first as Loki, before introducing the rest of his companions. Loki told him they were travelers from Telmar, a place farther off to the West. They were on their way back home and were just spending one last night here in these woods after hunting for game.

When Loki finished his tale, he turned back to the boy and the latter knew there was no more delaying the inevitable. It was either tell them the truth about his amnesia or make up a name for himself. The men looked friendly enough. He thought that perhaps honesty was the better way to go and perhaps the men could give him a clue on who he was.

"I-I really don't know who I am. I was hoping you could help me. I woke up in the woods three days ago and I don't seem to remember."

Loki nodded. "Ahh, poor lad. You must have fallen into an accident then and bumped your head. But perhaps you are a Telmarine, like us. Maybe you lost your party. Telmarines come and go in these woods often. You're welcome to travel with us home if you wish. We could use an extra hand traveling back, what with the cargo and all."

He noticed their possessions. The Telmarines had something like five large covered carts with wheels that were attached to six horses who would draw them. It instantly reminded him of a name for it: "a circus caravan"—whatever that was.

He didn't answer Loki immediately. He felt something about these woods. He wasn't sure leaving it was the wise thing to do. "I don't know. I feel as if what I'm looking for is right here, perhaps my companions are still here."

Loki shrugged. "No rash decisions yet, lad. You think about it tonight, you're welcome to stay with us, get to be friends. But I do hope you join us. There's nothing here for you in Narnia just woods."

Narnia. The name rang familiar to him. "Is this the name of this place?" he asked and the men nodded. "Is there a town then here in Narnia?"

"Town?" Loki laughed and his companions joined him. "You're lucky to find even another human here. This land's humans died out a long time ago. There's nothing here but trees and animals, and ghosts, they say. Some say there are weird creatures here that talk like us, but they aren't proper companions for a lad such as yourself."

There was a sudden shrill sound that he couldn't quite identify. It was like an agonized cry that made him suddenly shiver. But it was gone before he could listen further.

"What was that?" he asked.

"That's what I told you about," replied Loki without flinching. "There are strange things here in these woods. Unexplained voices, screams. You'll go mad if you stay here. But back home in Telmar, that's proper living. You should see the grand city states of Potens or Asgard where we're from." And Loki told him of the populous cities full of grand houses. There were large roads full of caravans and horses bringing wares as far as Calormen to the marketplace. And all around were the entertainment houses and the hall of warriors where the best fighters vied for titles and were honoured as heroes. None of what Loki said reminded the boy of anything at all. They all seemed strange and new to him, yet he felt a curiosity to see them himself. The way Loki told about the warriors invoked a longing for adventure in him that he soon forgot the mysterious sound he heard earlier.

"You look like a lad who can be a warrior," said Loki. "You think you can handle a sword right?"

He looked at his own sword. He had sheathed and stared at it countless times while wandering in the woods. It was made of fine steel, he knew and his grip on it was sure and steady. He figured he had some training before.

"I'm not sure," the boy replied. "I think I might."

"How 'bout we test it then." He called one of his companions and told him they would do a mock duel. The man that came forward was in his mid-twenties but was only a few inches taller than the boy. He had the bad habit of spitting every few minutes. He had a sword in his hand and readily took on the challenge.

The boy was alarmed. He didn't want to be on the bad side of these people, but all of them seemed intent on getting the mock-fight. Defeated, he unsheathed his sword and agreed to the fight.

They faced off a little distance from the fire. His opponent swung his sword madly left and right, grinning at him. Each time the boy only dodged.

"Come on, Narnian lost boy," teased his Telmarine opponent. "Use your sword like this." He swung his sword in the air frantically in what he thought was an elaborate move. But the boy could only laugh inwardly. It was like watching a child making pretend sword play. He let the Telmarine swing his sword again and he continued to dodge—which wasn't doing much.

"Swing it Narnian," the Telmarine continued to tease. "Watch me do it," he swung again.

The boy rolled his eyes. He was getting bored at this. He finally thrust his sword, his blade making contact with the young Telmarine's. With a quick flick of his wrist he flipped the amateur Telmarine's sword and it came flying off his hand. The shocked Telmarine didn't even have time to react, the boy held the tip of his sword to the Telmarine's chest.

Everyone grew silent until Loki began clapping his hands.

"Well done lad," said Loki. "But that was just a game and your opponent doesn't really know how to handle a sword. He just likes to show. How about we try you with someone with more experience?"

Loki called for another of his companions. This time it was a much larger man with a scimitar. The boy again didn't feel like fighting, but he didn't want to appear weak either, so he took on the challenge. His new opponent obviously knew how hold his weapon, but the boy also noticed he also lacked skill in using it. It didn't take long for the boy to disarm him as well, earning him applause from Loki who pitted him with another one of his companions.

Again and again, Loki pitted him until the boy had a turn with everyone except Loki himself. Each time, he was able to disarm each one with not much difficulty as none of them appeared to possess any excellent skill with fighting. Their talent for fighting was obviously just enough to be passable for self-defense. His confidence grew and in a way he was glad he had shown his prowess. He was assured somewhat that Loki and his men would think twice before they harmed him, if that was their intention.

"A good show, lad, good show," praised Loki after he defeated the final man. "You'll make a fine warrior in Telmar. You're a natural."

"I'm not sure I want to be one," the boy said. "I need to find out who I am first."

"Well perhaps you shall find who you are there," offered Loki. "Perhaps someone will recognize you in the city. Maybe your companions are already there looking for you and thinking you are lost or dead in these Narnian woods."

He considered it, but still couldn't give an answer. "Give me until morning to think of it," he said.

Loki agreed and offered him a spare blanket and a place for the night in one of the tents they put up. The boy however, politely refused and stayed a little distance away from the men in the clearing under the stars.

He stayed awake, his sword at his side the whole time, long after all the men were asleep. He thought hard about what they offered him. Could he really trust these men? But on the other hand, what are the odds that he would find other humans in these woods? What if what Loki said was true: that there are no more humans here? Would not it be better if he went to the city? It did sound an interesting place to be and he would like to see it himself. If he stayed here and later changed his mind and go to the cities in Telmar alone, he had no guide. He feared wandering aimlessly for the rest of his life here with no clue on who he was and no companion whatsoever. These were his last thoughts before his eyelids began to close in exhaustion. He felt he heard something like another scream followed by the sounds of sobbing but his mind was too tired to investigate and he eventually drifted off to sleep.

When he awoke it was still dark, though there was a lighter patch in the sky that told him dawn would approach soon. His sword and all his possessions were still with him and no one appeared to touch him through the night. All the men were still sleeping soundly in their tents.

He wandered off and gathered himself a breakfast of fruit and berries with cool water from the spring to drink. Just as he was splashing his face, he heard voices again.

"Quiet, there's a man."

"He doesn't look like one of them."

"It doesn't matter. We can't trust him. They already took our cousins. He's coming, run!"

He quickly followed the voices to a nearby bush but when he got there, he only managed to see the end tail of a scampering squirrel. He was sure he didn't imagine it this time and he puzzled over what he heard. Something about all this disturbed him.

"Lad?" Loki called from behind him, startling him.

"I was just washing up," he explained.

"Have you reached a decision?" asked Loki.

He didn't know what it was, but something was telling him, he couldn't trust these men and that he would be better off in these woods, even when he kept hearing strange voices.

"I think I'm going to stay here. My companions are probably still here. Perhaps I'll wait awhile and find them."

Loki gave a sinister tsk-tsking sound. "Too bad, we could all be good friends. But before you go, do stay with us for breakfast. We will leave after."

The boy shook his head. "I've already eaten a bit of fruit. Thank you, but I'm not very hungry."

"Ah well, then you don't want to go without saying goodbye to my companions then."

The boy heaved a sigh and followed Loki back to their camp clearing. It was only the polite thing to do.

At the camp, they found five of the men, busy saddling the horses and hitching the harness to their carts. They all stopped what they were doing and turned to look at them.

"Well men," greeted Loki to his men as he eyed them carefully. "I've found our Narnian lost lad and he's decided not to go with us. He's here to say goodbye."

"Thank you for your hospitality," the boy began, but he was cut off by one of the men, the young man who he fought first the previous night.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for breakfast? We're having lamb."

He shook his head. "Oh no, thank you. I don't want to impose further—"

But the Telmarine youth wasn't listening, one of his companions brought out a lamb from one of the carts. It was bleating madly and trying to get away from the man's grip. The Telmarine took his sword.

"No! Please… don't!"

The boy stood shocked, for it was the lamb that spoke. But the Telmarine didn't even flinch, he ran the sword into the lamb viciously several times until it stopped moving.

"T-that lamb, it spoke!" cried the boy. Though it surprised him, the way the men killed it was the one that horrified him beyond anything he had seen.

"Strange creatures," said Loki evenly.

Another cry pierced the clearing.

"What was that?" demanded the boy. He felt his insides turn to jelly. Something here was very, very wrong.

"Well, I'll show you lad," said Loki and he led the boy towards one of the carts and opened the door revealing an assortment of creatures: foxes, beavers, three dogs, a bear and on one corner a young girl dressed in leaves though her skin and hair were coloured green that told him she wasn't at all human.

The boy stared in confusion. "What the—"

Without warning, he was shoved inside and he heard the slam of the door behind him. He banged back it with his fist but he was locked in with the rest of the creatures in the cart in the dark.

Light flooded as someone opened what appeared to be a large window at the top of the cart at his eye level. He could see that the window was still covered with a fine steel mesh. Loki leaned over to peer at him.

"Loki, what is the meaning of this? Let me out!"

He again made that tsk-tsking sound with his tongue. "I told you lad, you would make a fine warrior in Telmar. You had a choice. You could have come willingly and spared yourself the inconvenience of the journey. But since you're not willing, you'll just have to travel with the rest of the creatures I found for the freak act."

Loki disappeared from view. The boy desperately banged on the walls of the cart.

"It is no use. It is solid steel, not even a bear can break," whispered the airy voice of the girl with him.

He turned to them with a questioning look.

"They're slavers," explained the girl. "They come to the Narnian woods to find new creatures to exploit and bring to Telmar. Some of us will be killed and eaten for food, some for their fur," she gestured to the beavers who huddled together at the foot of the bear for comfort. And some," she looked down, indicating herself. "For entertainment during their bloody warrior games and shows."

He felt his knees buckle and he knelt down to be on level with her. "And I'm to be—"

"A warrior," she said sadly. "I've heard the men talking since last night. You are their finest find on this trip."

"But why?" he asked, even more confused and shocked by what he was hearing.

The girl just stared at him with quiet horror in her eyes and in an emotionless voice answered: "Because warriors fetch the highest price as slaves. They earn more than their weight in gold when they die in the arena."


	12. The plotline

_**A/N: **__I know it's been a year since I updated this and a lot of you probably had gotten tired of waiting. The truth is I'd like to finish this story__ and I have resisted putting this up for such a long time in the hope that I can still continue it__. Unfortunately my life is just too full right now with other things that I simply don't have the time to write. I'm afraid I won't be able to finish this anymore until I'm old__ retired and have absolutely nothing to do. But as consolation, I actually have the entire plot line written down long ago__. I am posting it now so you'd know how it will turn and end. As you can see from the complicated details I wrote this is really an epic that can rival Tolkien in length. So unless you can wait for more than a decade (that's how long it took for Tolkien to finish his Lord of the Rings), I don't think I'll be able to finish the actual story in the manner and quality it deserves. However if any of you get any ideas from this, feel free to use them, just tell me about it through review or PM. I'm really sorry about this, but I still want to share with you what I managed to think of._

_Spouse of Orestes_

**Peter** – recovers from his injuries and becomes an accepted member of the crew of the Suzannah. He takes the name Gale as his own. He maintains a rivalry with the Calormene slave that he met during captivity named Ardeeb. Both of them serve as cabin boys onboard the Suzannah although Peter becomes quite close to its Captain Odessus. He slowly rises among the ranks of the crew from cabin boy to first mate. When Odessus dies, Peter becomes the ship's captain. Ardeeb however, leaves the ship to go home to Calormen. Five years from the time he loses his memory, Peter meets the ambassador of the mer-people, Luciana and forms a friendship with her even if he is not aware that she is his sister. With Luciana's help, he liberates the Lone Islands from the Eastern Ocean pirates and is proclaimed Emperor. He becomes a vassal of Aslan.

**Susan** – remains a prisoner for several weeks in the tower and forms a friendship with King Colin. He gives her a history book to read and she becomes particularly fond of the story of previous duchess of Archenland-turned Narnian Queen Suzannah Swanwhite. She takes on the name Suzannah Swanwhite. Colin holds off a siege of Archenland, often asking Susan for advice. Archenland's minister however, continues to lust after Susan and advances on her. When she refuses him, he finds a way to accuse her as a witch and a spy. She is sent to the stake to be burned. Aslan however, saves her and she is released while Barin is banished from the kingdom. Susan becomes the rallying force of the people of Archenland to push back the Calormene army laying siege to their walls. For the next five years, Archenland suffers from continuous attacks from Calormen but King Colin and Susan as his adviser manages to thwart them from taking Archenland completely.

**Edmund **– is brought to Telmar against his will with the other captured Narnians. He forms a special friendship with tree nymph Semele on the way. He does not have a name although his captors call him the "fair prince of the East"—a name he despises. He becomes a warrior in Telmar and is made to fight like a gladiator at the bloody games of the Telmarines. He meets a middle aged faun named Orruns and another human warrior slave, a Calormene boy of Edmund's age named Emeth. Edmund forms a particularly close friendship with Emeth after he saves Emeth's life.

(Emeth is a Tarkhaan and younger brother to the crown prince of Calormen, Ardeeb. Ardeeb is the rightful ruler of Calormen. However, his uncle usurped the throne and had him sold to slavery with Emeth. They were separated and Emeth longs only to find his older brother, come home to Calormen and restore their birthright.)

After almost a year in captivity, Edmund plans his escape with Emeth, Semele and Orruns. Emeth however, is killed as they make their escape. He dies in Edmund's arms and gives Edmund his royal ring and makes him promise to find Ardeeb and tell him how he died. Edmund takes the ring and reaches Narnia with Semele and Orruns. Edmund takes in the name Emeth in honor of his friend's memory. Edmund works closely with Orruns and Semele for the next four years liberating the Western Woods from the Telmarine slavers. Edmund is later proclaimed Duke of Lantern Waste and becomes a vassal of Aslan. Orruns becomes Edmund's general and right hand man. Narnia remains kingless at this point.

**Lucy **– is at first mistrusted in the court of the mer-people but is gradually accepted as a friend through the efforts of the princess Marina who becomes her ally. Marina names her Luciana, after the ship where Marina found her (This is the same Narnian royal flagship that bore King Frank and his son when they dropped the seed). The mer-people are currently besieged by the kraken, a monster that was sent to lay-waste to the mer-people's kingdom. The mer-people has a long standing feud with the sea-people due to the "first merman."

Previously, the mer-people are a purely female race. In order to reproduce they invite the men of the sea-people over during the mating season. The sea-men return to their people after the season and they take all male offspring born between sea-men and mermaids to their kingdom and raise them as sea-men. The mer-queen, however, had a child, a son that surprisingly had a tail (all male offspring even those with mermaid mothers before had no tails). The mer-queen considered him to be the first merman and thus refused to give him up to the sea-people as was tradition. The sea-people in their fury sent the kraken to regularly siege the mer-people in an attempt to regain what they believe is their rightful subject.

Lucy makes the bold step to reconcile the two kingdoms and makes friends with a sea-girl, a lowly shepherdess (she later re-meets this shepherdess in the Voyage of the Dawn Treader though she no longer remembers her). Lucy remains in the court of the mer-people though she has to come up to land once a month. Five years later from the time she loses her memory, she comes up to land at one time and encounters Gale (Peter). They become friends and she helps him to liberate the Lone Islands. The Lone Islanders know her as the "Sea-Child."

At this point, their story merges. Swanwhite (Susan), the highest advisor in King Colin's court, remains problematic with the constant attacks from Calormen of Archenland. She seeks help and corresponds with Emeth (Edmund), the Duke of Lantern Waste. They become very good friends and form an alliance through letters. At the same time, Emeth corresponds regularly with Gale (Peter) as co-vassal under Aslan though they never meet. Gale, Emeth and Luciana (Lucy) all offer help to rid Archenland of the Calormen threat. Gale cuts off the Calormen supplies by sea by blockading the sea routes, Luciana users her mer-people influence to have all the fish re-routed so no catch can be made in Calormen shores. Emeth cuts off the illegal black market of supplies from his side of Telmar. Calormen is forced to withdraw as its supplies run low. At the same time it is also besieged by a rebellion led by Ardeeb, who is trying to restore himself as Tisroc.

With Archenland now at peace, King Colin offers a tournament to establish friendly relations. Emeth arrives first and meets Swanwhite for the first time. They feel something affectionate for each other instantaneously which makes Colin—who is by now in love with Swanwhite—jealous. Gale arrives two days later with Luciana. The Lone Islanders have urged Gale before to marry and they have set their sights on having him married to the Lady Swanwhite, whose beauty has now become famous throughout the Eastern Ocean. But when Gale sees Swanwhite for the first time he only feels the same affection for her as he does for Luciana. The four of them become close friends.

Also at the tournament is Ardeeb, still a rebellion leader attempting to regain his throne. He becomes another ardent suitor of Swanwhite though she does not return his affection. When Ardeeb hears that the Duke of Lantern Waste named Emeth is present, he rushes to his tent expecting to find his brother only to find Edmund. Edmund as Emeth tells Ardeeb of what happened to his brother and gives Ardeeb his fallen friend's ring. Ardeeb breaks down his superior mask for the first time and cries for his fallen brother and Gale realizes he is also human after all. Gale and Ardeeb still don't like each other but they maintain a respectful civil relationship due to Edmund's intervention (whom Ardeeb is grateful to since Edmund saved his brother's life before).

Before the final day of the tournament, Gale, Swanwhite, Emeth and Luciana share a picnic at the beach away from the Archenland court. It is here that they realize that they are brothers and sisters due to a common song they know and a memory that comes into Swanwhite's mind of the battle of Beruna where Edmund becomes injured. Colin witnesses Gale embracing Swanwhite on the beach and becomes convinced they are lovers.

On the final day of the tournament, Gale and Colin compete at the final duel with a broadsword. Inflamed by jealousy, Colin injures Gale though the latter still wins out of better skill. Gale is pronounced winner before he collapses, bringing Swanwhite to his side. Colin hopelessly walks out towards his tent to brood.

Several minutes later, when Swanwhite is assured of Gale's condition, she comes to check on Colin. He fires her from her position as advisor to the court of Archenland and tells her bitterly that she could easily get a job with the Emperor of Lone Islands—whether in his office or in his bed. Swanwhite feels insulted, slaps him then leaves. Luciana overhears them and rebukes Colin when they are suddenly attacked and abducted by armed men.

When Luciana and Colin come to they are being held in an unknown camp. Barin appears and angrily scolds his men for taking the wrong girl. (He is aiming to abduct Swanwhite and Colin but his men got Luciana instead). Luciana and Colin discover that the banished former minister has now joined forces with the unlawful Tisroc. Colin is meant to be held for ransom to furnish the diminishing coffers of the Calormen treasury while Swanwhite goes to Barin.

Meanwhile, back in Archenland, Emeth, Gale and Swanwhite discover Luciana and Colin missing. They join forces with Ardeeb to rescue their sister and the Archenland king in exchange for aid to the rightful Tarkhaan to regain his kingdom. The rescue is successful and Barin is killed. The Pevensie siblings are reunited.

As promised, the four Pevensies and Colin help Ardeeb in a battle to defeat his uncle. The battle is successful and Ardeeb ascends the throne of Calormen. Ardeeb proposes marriage to Swanwhite after he is proclaimed Tisroc but she turns him down. They however, remain good friends. As Tisroc, Ardeeb becomes a just ruler and maintains an alliance with Archenland, Lantern Waste, the Lone Islands and the mer-people (he is the same Ardeeb Tisroc who becomes Aravis' great-great-grandfather).

An apologetic Colin proposes to Swanwhite and marries her. Emeth later marries the nymph Semele. The four Pevensie siblings live and rule in their respective lands though they correspond and see each other regularly and maintain a good relationship with Ardeeb. Their reign becomes an age of peace and solidarity and is known as the Golden Ages for Calormen and Archenland.

Swanwhite and Colin have three children: two girls and a boy. (Their oldest girl, Helen becomes great-grandmother to the future King Lune) Emeth begets a son named Peridan with Semele in the 25th year of his reign. Luciana and Gale remain unmarried. On the thirty-fifth year since the Pevensies arrive in this time, Colin dies of natural causes. Ardeeb, who is now a widower with a grown-up son, proposes again to Swanwhite. She refuses him once more but they still remain as friends.

The bereaved Swanwhite is invited by Luciana with Gale and Emeth on a holiday at sea. They sail together on the Suzannah where their boat gets tossed by a storm. They reach an unknown island beyond the Lone Islands where they meet Aslan. Aslan reveals to them their former lives and tells them it is time to return to it. Emeth is reluctant to leave the life he has due to his wife and young son, but Aslan assures him he will meet them again. Aslan breathes on them and they are transported back to the moment where they first left on the 1002 Narnian year with no memories of the 35 years they lived. They do however, retain a hidden knowledge that they can draw from to help them in their reign as Kings and Queens of Narnia.

Back in the time they left, the subjects from Archenland, Lantern Waste, the Lone Islands, and the mer-kingdom proclaim the four leaders lost or dead at sea. Confusion sets in coupled with fear that the protection tree that had grown in abundance for almost a thousand years is quickly dying. Ardeeb is left to ponder in horror as he receives reports from his allied countries about the growing threat from the North. He alone makes the necessary preparations to protect his kingdom from whatever threat that would come.

Semele in Lantern Waste is left to grieve. She questions Aslan as to where her husband has gone. Aslan tells her that she will see her husband again but she has to give her son up to keep him safe from the White Witch that will come to lay siege to Narnia. Aslan however, entrusts to her the prophesy of the two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve that will liberate them from the Witch. Semele relays the prophesy to her nymph friends then tearfully sends her five-year-old son Peridan to Archenland (He becomes Lord Peridan's ancestor). She then locks herself in seclusion for 105 years, vowing to shun the company of anyone male.

The White Witch arrives from the north and invades Narnia. Orruns, Emeth's general leads the resistance from Lantern Waste but he is killed in the struggle, leaving behind his only son, Tumnus. After Orruns' death the White Witch conquers the rest of Narnia including the Lone Islands.

The sea-people, fearful of their lives, leave to find settlement away from Narnia and the danger posed by the White Witch. The mer-people opted to stay out of loyalty to the last remaining resistance in the shores of Archenland. Many of them are killed but a few are able to escape and go into hiding. Marina is among the few that survived and lived on in hiding near the Lone Islands. She, like Semele, questions Aslan about their fate. Aslan responds to her and tells her to remain faithful. He entrusts to her the prophesy of the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve that will one day come to liberate them. She takes it to mean that Luciana, Gale, Emeth and Swanwhite—the four strong leaders of the golden age will return. So for the next 100 years she maintains a habit of surfacing once a month near the Lone Islands in the hope that Luciana will return as she did to the sea every new moon.

The Archenlanders led by their 18-year-old queen, Helen (Swanwhite's and Colin's eldest daughter) put up a resistance for months but are eventually forced to flee Archenland for the safety of Mt. Pire. Anvard is overrun by the White Witch's forces and is burned to the ground.

The White Witch's forces attempt to go further south towards Calormen but are repelled by Ardeeb. Ardeeb maintains his kingdom for several years more until his death. He makes a smooth transfer of power to his son Ilsombreh who succeeds him as Tisroc. On Ardeeb's deathbed, he entrusts Ilsombreh with two things: maintain the freedom and just governance of Calormen as Ardeeb did, and help recover the fallen kingdom of his beloved Swanwhite. Ilsombreh eagerly obeys his father's commands as he is in love with Swanwhite's daughter Helen. However, like her mother, Helen only feels a platonic affection for Ilsombreh. For several years, Ilsombreh maintains contact with Helen in an attempt to recover Archenland. As proof of his love and devotion, he launches a large battle to recover Archenland for her. He is however, killed by the White Witch. Back in Calormen, Ilsombreh's general takes over the throne unchallenged since Ilsombreh's son and heir Rishti is still a child. The Tisroc line continues through the usurper and from then on corruption and evil reigned in Calormen _I figured here that the current Tisroc at the time of Aravis was actually not the rightful heir__ Aravis' line __possibly __has that rightful claim. She mentions that __Ardeeb Tisroc "__was descended __in a right line from the god __Tash__." This indicates the affirmation that Aravis' family is the __true royal line. __In __many cultures __the claim of the __true royal line is descended from the divine. I also noticed that only Ardeeb and Ilsombreh were Tisrocs. After them, Rishti, Aravis' grandfather__ was only called a Tarkhaan. I figured something happened in the political situation in Calormen at this point that prevented Rishti from inheriting the same title as his father and grandfather__ and continuing that line_

In the last chapter, King Edmund, now returned to his proper time, is shown going on horseback, visiting the Lantern Waste with Lord Peridan's little son. It is Edmund's 16th birthday and he shares it with the boy. Edmund has grown fond of the boy since Lord Peridan brought him to Narnia. Edmund's gift to the boy is to take him to see Caldron Pool for the first time. They stop by a familiar withered apple tree. As the boy touches the dead trunk, Edmund notices a prick of green twig growing and realizes the tree isn't dead after all. But he gets distracted when a face appears behind the trunk. He stares at the beautiful face with green hair for a long moment, mesmerized. She stares back before uttering to him: "Come to the last night of the Bacchanalia when my vow will end." She disappears and Edmund is left to ponder what she means. Peridan's son asks him what a Bacchanalia is and Edmund answers that he doesn't know but he says Mr. Tumnus probably does and he should ask him sometime.

_**A/N Again: **__Well that's it. There are still a lot of details that needed to be worked out, but that's the basic plotline I thought of. The idea that ignited this fic really was that little scene between Lucy and the Sea-Girl in the Voyage of the Dawn Treader. It got me thinking what if they really had a history together. And then suddenly I kept getting more details on what to add as I recalled other characters when I re-read the books__ and checked the other canon material from the "Companion to Narnia." I even have an idea about the romance story __between __the first Emperor Gale (the one that tamed a dragon and became the first emperor of the Lone Islands) and Queen Swanwhite (the one whose beauty can be reflected in a pool she used as a mirror for a year and a day). __It actually goes in sync with this plotline. __Hey if anyone is interested in writing that story you can get ideas from me. I got loads of those. I just wish I had time to write them all. So for now, all I can do is throw them around for other people to pick up._


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